


An Even Trade

by PaperAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Gabriel, M/M, Minor Violence, Sam is a Tease, Season/Series 03, Sexual Tension, Slow Romance, Supernatural Canon Big Bang 2017, Trickster Gabriel, kind of case fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-15 01:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: You'd think being relentlessly pursued by a tall, dark and handsome hunter would be an exciting game of chase. Until it wasn’t.Gabriel was growing bored of Sam Winchester’s constant tailing, still obsessed with getting his brother back, even though the Trickster was doing the kid a favor by offing Dean, thank you very much. He had to make this entertaining again, this new merciless killing-machine-Sam was no fun.They entered into a deal: Sam would work a case under the guise of a Trickster to see the reason behind the mischief by serving up a case of Just Desserts. If Sam won? He got Dean back. If he lost...well, Sam wasn’t going to lose, no matter the cost.Except, seven days of living on top of one another made Sam see beyond the monster who ruined him and back to the witty, cute janitor he met at Crawford Hall. There was also the problem of the two men, who were clearly attracted to each other, alone in a motel room for a full week. It was an accident waiting to happen.The puzzle was, neither knew who was manipulating who, if it was all a ploy or real emotions were coming out to play. The only thing both men recognized was something real was happening.And they were running out of time.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun working with the talented [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) on this Bang, her artwork is absolutely perfect, not to mention she's lovely and I adore her! 
> 
> [SPNgreeneyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spngreeneyes) was my wonderful beta and helped me out with this fic so much, I cannot thank her enough! <3
> 
>  **Ann's Notes:** This fic was written for the [Supernatural Canon BigBang](https://spncanonbigbang.tumblr.com/) and I've been waiting for what feels like years to post it! I'm very excited and I hope you enjoy!

  
  
Sam’s eyes were scanning across the pages so fast that his finger skidded below the near-ancient paper of the old book just to keep up.  He _had_ to get this right!  There couldn’t be a single mistake, and even though he’d read through it a million times, even though he had the ingredients in front of him: they were finite.  A stutter in his incantation, a single sloppy sigil and that meant he was back to square one.

And he couldn’t handle it.

He was _so_ fucking _sick_ of hunting the Trickster.  This summoning ritual Bobby found was the best news he’d heard in nearly six months.

Sam needed his brother back.

Each passing day, God, it hurt more and more and if he could just fucking talk to it-

“Really, kiddo?”

A voice jolted the hunter up from where he’d been crouched down over the tome and his blood ran cold.  He jumped to his feet and spun around, disbelief wide in his eyes when he realized he wasn’t alone.  When he recognized exactly who had appeared in vacant warehouse with him.

“ _How-_ ” Sam’s voice was shocked before he gained steam in his confusion and started over.  “How did you know?  I haven’t even started the ritual!”

“Ya got me here, one way or another,” he mused, approaching with a casual saunter and a mischievous smile.  “Plus, as much as I love a good chase, this ain’t as much fun as I pictured.  You’re just…sad.  Not getting the picture, not getting the lesson.  It’s frustrating!”

“Then give me my brother back.”  Sam didn’t care if his voice cracked, he didn’t even think about grabbing the stake.  Because if the Trickster was growing bored, maybe this was his chance.  “I know, I get it, we’re disgustingly codependent!  But I had time left with him, and I wanted to make the most of that time.  You took it away - and for what?  I get your ‘lesson’ but I-I,” Sam’s eyes dropped to the floor as he begged, “ _Please_.  Just take me back to Tuesday.”

With a scoff, a snap of his fingers, and a manifested sucker, the monster seemed to think about it.  He examined the poor excuse of a human in front of him.

Up until now, Sam had been a machine, a fearless, ruthless and borderline emotionless soldier who cut through anything in his path.  Be it hunts, any tips on the Trickster, or even regular _humans_ who ruffled his feathers in bar fights.  He was untouchable.  And while it was unfortunate to see him harden against the world, it was even more pathetic to see him crumble at the drop of a hat.

“You know what?” the Trickster mused aloud, confidently striding around the fallen man, scrutinizing him.  “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Deal?” Sam echoed, his hackles rising and his eyes narrowing, “Like a Crossroads-”

“Ew!  No, nothing like a demon,” he looked irked and offended by the mere thought.  “You need to step in my shoes for a day.  Be the teacher.  Feel what it’s like to dole out some just desserts.  Some people need to be punished, others need to be taught lessons.  If you’d do ‘anything’ for your brother, let’s see if you can handle tossing your moral bigotry aside and punishing those who need it.”

Cautiously, Sam summarized, “You…want me to be you?”

“Hell no!  You could never be me!” he cackled at the thought and rolled his eyes, “Just play me on TV.  Give someone a good spanking,” he emphasized, rubbing his hands together.  “And I’ll let you swap one lesson for another.  Yours, that you _clearly_ will never fuckin’ learn, for another’s.  But!  You’ll have to get your hands dirty to do it.”

“Fine.”

On one hand, the Trickster was taken aback by how immediate Sam’s response was.  On the other hand, he should have expected it.  Given the cold machine Sam had transformed himself into these last few months.

“Well, we’re gonna have fun, aren’t we?”  With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he said was, “First, no trying to stake me.  I’m the only one who can bring your brother back, so that would be pretty counterproductive.  Ya know, if you throttled the only one who can save the damsel.  Two, you’ve only got a week.  No powers, only your brains, bucko.  Let’s take a walk.”

Wordlessly, Sam nodded and followed behind him.  He left the altar, the rare objects and ingredients as well as the old, dusty book behind.  He was of one mind, one focus and this was the first flicker of hope he’d felt in God knows how long.

Sam wouldn’t let the chance escape him, he wouldn’t let it pass by.  

Even though the skip on the Trickster’s step and the way he glanced over his shoulder with nothing but glee didn’t spell out anything good.  Sam could handle it.  He could handle anything that was thrown at him, he was sure.

He needed to get Dean back.

\------------------

Gabriel had been watching Sam Winchester for a damn long time, and it became more and more irritating by the day.

The whole point was to move on, to heal, to - you know - avoid the goddamn apocalypse!  But everything that he’d hoped, everything that he’d done looked to have been in vain.

Sam Winchester wasn’t going through those good ol’ human “Stages of Loss,” of grief - hell no, he was ripping up the rule book and _Gabriel_ was his obsession instead.  

Well, not Gabriel per se, but his alter ego.  He was damn lucky to have been peeking in when he had to see the brat putting together the _actual_ Trickster summoning ritual, because that wouldn’t have done jack to get him there, since it was the real deal.  How did the kid even find that?  Gabriel had thought he’d burnt every copy of the Loki summoning in existence!    
  
Without Gabriel keeping his eyes on Sam, when Sam went through with it and _bam_ \- no Trickster, the jig would’ve been up.

Because the hunter was smart.  He would have combed through every little detail, his fixation demanding a reason why it hadn’t worked.  Then his brain would have gone into overdrive.  Questions would mount that maybe he wasn’t a Trickster at all.  He would've questioned the extent of his powers - and then?  

Well, it would all go to shit.  Even though he didn’t have any knowledge about angels, Gabriel would be tempted to make the reveal…maybe that would be the way to drive it into the kid’s skull - divine intervention!

Luckily, it had been avoided.

Yet Gabriel was still here, determined to turn this around.  The entertainment factor had been killed months ago: demolished, wrecked, annihilated.  He sure as hell didn’t jump ship from Heaven to be bored and disappointed on Earth.  Nah, he would’ve stayed upstairs if that were the case.

He knew Sam was capable of more, he’d always been fascinated by him, and even if he didn’t want to admit it - taken by him.

It wasn’t like Gabriel cared, but…okay, maybe he did _a little_.  Otherwise, why would he be wasting his time on this insignificant human?  Sure, he could use the excuse of his brother being raised from Hell, but it was really about Sam’s journey and making sure he didn’t fall prey to whatever methods the demons would implement to put him in that place.  In “destiny’s” place.

Gabriel knew this human had a good heart, he’d be taken advantage of, and it would be centered around his brother’s death.  So if he could just get with the program and get over it early, things would be so much easier!

But nope.  No dice.

Once they were out of the warehouse, and with a wave of his hand, Gabriel transported the pair inside a motel room.  It was something he knew the hunter was familiar with and, yes, he was a gentleman and brought all of his belongings with him, you're welcome.

Sam seem jarred by the drastic change of scenery and spun around.  “Where are we?!”

“Cool your jets,” Gabriel replied smoothly, taking a seat at the small table by the window, “We’re in Venice Beach, sugar.”

“California?”  He looked even more baffled, if that were possible, “How did we-” he huffed out, probably shocked by the joys of flight.  “Why are we-?”

“Perks of being a Pagan God.  Teleporting,” Gabriel interrupted him with a wink, “And as to the why!  That’s all about your little mission.  Yes, yes, the scenery is a bonus - I highly doubt you’ve hunted many monsters this side of the country.  Probably worried it’s gonna fall into the ocean and shit.”  He gestured to the chair in front of him, “Sit back.  Relax.  Let’s talk about just desserts!”

Slowly, he pulled the chair out and made room for his god-awfully long limbs but was hesitant to sit.

With annoyance, Gabriel felt the need to point out, “If I haven’t killed you yet, I’m not going to.  Plus, where’s the fun for me?  The real question is whether or not you’re serious about our little trade off.”

“If I get Dean back, of course I am.”

The conviction in his voice was annoying, and Gabriel was sure it showed on his face.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dean, Dean, Dean - broken record, hear you loud and clear.”

“Then tell me what I have to do.”  Finally, he had Sam’s rapt attention.

“Good,” a smirk quirked on his face when Gabriel announced, “Story time!” and snapped up another treat.  “So we’ve got one psycho chick who fell down the rabbit hole and is absolutely _obsessed_ with supernatural lore.  Some hunter was sloppy during a hunt, she caught sight of him ganking a shifter, and voila!  Love at first sight!  With the dark side.  So she bangs the hunter, takes his journal, and off she goes.”

Sam was listening with a frown but his focus was on Gabriel and Gabriel alone.  Which was good, because he was just getting started.

“Homegirl wants to be a part of the world.  So, logically, being born a human the only job opening was witchcraft.  And she sucked a _huge_ dick at it.  We’re talking Magic-School Drop-Out.  Hell, her shitty-ass energy was flying _so far_ off the map, the local coven came by and threatened her.  See, they were light magic practitioners and were freakin’ out that she’d blow their cover and draw hunters.  Because our chick?  She kept trying her hand at black magic and blood magic.  The nasty stuff.”

“But…she had to stop, right?  After all, an entire coven versus a beginner is suicide.  And what else is there for a human?” Sam inquired, his brows scrunched together with intrigue.

“Exactly!  So she dives back into the journal to explore “other avenues.”  Now, I’m not gonna lie, this girl - no matter how batshit crazy she is - she’s a solid ten.  Decided to use that to her advantage, because of her vanity, and see if she could play the part of a _siren_ ,” Gabriel dramatically revealed with a flurry of theatrical fingers.

“She’s just a normal girl,” Sam couldn’t get past the part where a _human_ could play a _monster_.

Which was understandable.  In most cases.

“Yep.  She is, indeed, a normal girl.  But a naughty, naughty one,” Gabriel clapped his hand down on the table, and when he lifted it, out from underneath appeared newspaper clipping after newspaper clipping, which Sam instantly reached for.  “Looks like she can play siren better than she can play witch.  Here’s your proof.  She’s already pulled some good tricks, bullied some witnesses to stay off the radar, seduced men into having affairs and then sealed the deal with the old-fashioned signature siren move.  Getting them to kill their spouse, or the person they love most, so they could be together - and ditching ‘em, fast.”

The hunter’s eyes flew over the paper as he realized it was all true, by the dates, the publications _and_ the text - this would all be obvious red-flagged siren material.  But knowing that it was being committed by some fanatic?  By a human?

“How many?”  Sam asked, flipping through the material, because he knew not all cases made it into the papers.

“Six,” Gabriel happily reported, “Working on lucky number seven.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, Sam set the papers down and chewed his bottom lip.  “I don’t understand, this would be something I’d take care of as a hunter.  Why are you just giving me a case?  That doesn't make any sense.”

“This isn’t a hunt.  Not in the literal sense.  Yer not headed in there, guns blazing.”  Gabriel pointed a very sharp finger with a shark-like grin.   “ _You_ , Sammy, are going to give her a taste of her own medicine.  If she can be a siren, so can you.  You’re going to seduce her, make her think she can’t live without you and then she gets her just desserts!”

“But from what you’re telling me, she’s some solo occult-obsessed weirdo.  And...I wouldn’t want her to kill some innocent to “be with me.””  Sam recoiled at the idea.

With a slow applause, Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows.  “And _that’s_ the beauty of it.  The person she loves most?  Is numero uno.  You don’t have to convince her to gank an innocent, kid.  Your job is to lure her into killing _herself_.  Since she’s the only one she cares about.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, but…that made perfect sense.    
  
That was the definition of Gabriel’s mission statement.  And…this woman was just as bad as the creatures they hunted, maybe even worse because she wasn’t born with these impulses: she decided to do it.  She sought pleasure from it and she was on the loose. 

Still, manipulating a woman, getting close enough for “love” and then coming up with a way to destroy her and make her take her own life?  That wasn’t just heavy, that was vile.  And both of them knew it.  Still, it would be done either way, and if Sam could get his brother back-

“All right,” he said softly, meeting Gabriel’s eyes and asking, “What are the rules?”

Looking downright giddy, he listed them off on his hands, “You’ve got one week to complete your mission.  No body, no brother.  You don’t get any magical powers of suggestion - this is just you, using your charm, wit, and hot bod.  I’ll be watching your progress, which means this motel room is home base for the duration of the week.  I expect check-ins, I expect progress reports, and I expect _results_.”  With a fake gasp, he added in, “Oh!  No killing me in my sleep, if I choose to sleep, that is, during our _lovely_ bonding experience.  But you already know that whole spiel.  Any questions, young grasshopper?”

It looked as though Sam was taking his time, thinking through each and every rule and making sure it checked out.  Making sure he was positive, that he could do this, that the mission was worth it and-

Of course it was worth it.  He’d do worse, he knew he would.

“Does the week begin tonight or tomorrow?” ended up being Sam’s question, which tickled Gabriel.

“Ah, I do love a go-getter!”  He glanced at the clock on the wall and said, “Tomorrow, it’s getting late.”

“Would it be against the rules if I introduced myself to her tonight?” Sam crossed his arms and boldly leaned forward on the table, locking his eyes with Gabriel with a thrilling intensity.

So Gabriel matched his posture, crossing into what could be considered Sam’s personal space and dropping his voice to something husky.  “I’ll say it again: I _do_ love a go-getter.”  

When Sam didn’t back down, when he held his ground even though Gabriel was a powerful force of nature - a “creature” so much stronger than him, his brazen attitude did wonders to add to Gabriel’s fascination.  Just because he could, and he wanted to see what the hunter’s reaction would be he deliberately licked his lips and leaned in to whisper into Sam’s ear.

“I’ll give you a head start,” he decided, and loved the slight shiver that viscerally shot through the hunter’s spine.  “She’s at Club 634 tonight.  Name’s Eliza.”  Gabriel stuffed something in Sam’s front pocket, which made him pull away, because his embarrassment was evident and he finished with, “There’s her picture.”

With a firm pat on his cheek, Gabriel encouraged, “Go out.  Have some fun and dip your toes in.  This is your interviewing part, right?  I’d suggest drinking, that place is trash.”

Sam watched Gabriel collapse back onto the chair and he still shone brightly with that Cheshire-grin.  Even though Sam, himself, was a little flustered and jerkily stood up to his full height, needing his sense of self back.  He should be pissed with the lack of boundaries, he should be offended and angry - but he was ruffled.  What the hell?

“Oh, and you can’t go out like that!  Lumberjack-chic ain’t the kind of place our little siren-wannabe frequents.”  He snapped his fingers again and Sam looked down in near-disgust to find himself in _club_ attire.  Before he could couple a complaint with his bitchface, Gabriel purred, “But I gotta say, your ass looks _a_ -fucking- _mazing_ in those jeans.  No one will be able to say no to you.”

“Yeah?  Does that mean we can stop this charade and you’ll just return my brother?” Sam quipped back, finally finding his voice.

“Hah!  That was a very, very nice try,” Gabriel admitted with a cluck of his tongue.  “But I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this immensely.  Need a teleport?” he offered with a wink.

“I’ll manage,” Sam grumbled, and with that he was through the front door.

Gabriel lingered in his seat, downright elated with the way events had transpired.  They couldn’t have gone any better, from his point of view.  Well, the only thing that could have topped said events would have been if Sam decided to give up on Dean - but Dad knows _that_ wasn’t in the cards.

He mused over whether or not he wanted to watch the first introductions, how Sam handled this situation, what his approach was going to be…but Gabriel made it clear he wanted check-ins and progress reports.  Not to mention, he would love to hear the words and the stories coming from those lovely lips…

Besides, while Sam was gone that didn’t mean that Gabriel was free to relax.  No, he still have a job of his own.  His other projects.  Just because he had something more personal to handle at the moment didn’t mean humanity wasn’t going to get a firm kick in the ass from him as the Trickster.  

Tonight happened to serial-wife abuser who bullied all the significant woman in his life into silence and had never been caught by the police.  Gabriel was about to take a woman’s vessel and beat the ever-loving-fuck out of _him_ , for a change and cut out his tongue - erasing his memory of said woman so she didn't get in any trouble.  It just depended on his mood whether or not this abuser survived the beating.


	2. Target(s) Acquired

On the brisk walk downtown, Sam studied the picture of his target - Eliza - with detail.  He only had to ask one couple walking down the streets where this bar was, because _apparently_ it was a big deal.  Sam didn’t have any ID except his normal fake with him.  He crossed his fingers that entry wasn’t going to be a problem.

The Trickster had given him a head start - so of course he was going to take it.

The first order of business was diverting her attention from her newest target and towards him.  It sounded like she was in the middle of another kill and Sam was the only one who could save the poor sap.  Right before he got in line on the sidewalk, he took the picture and shredded it, letting the California breeze carry it down the street, whipping it into the ocean wind.

When he took stock of the people waiting to get in, he admitted that the clothes he’d been forced into were…appropriate.  Even if he felt like a grade-A douche.

The wait was at least a half hour, Sam was surprised they were allowing patrons in at all - considering he hadn’t caught sight of many exiting.  Then again, sometimes a line outside was meant to draw others in.  Make it look more appealing and exclusive because of said line.  A stupid marketing strategy.

Eventually, with a smile to the security guard, Sam made his way to the bar.

Even though this was the last place he wanted to be, all of it was inevitable.  His stomach had already dropped out and never really resituated, his nerves had been frayed from the second the Trickster met him in that warehouse and he fought through the exhaustion.  Everything that happened after, that was happening right now, was just icing on the cake.  But the idea if he completed this task that the monster would be so benevolent?

It wasn’t too far-fetched.  Because in retrospect, the Trickster was probably taking some sick pleasure in the fact he was turning Sam into a monster.  Little did he know he’d _already_ done that, he’d past that line, and this woman had earned her sentence.  Sam didn’t have any qualms about putting her down.

Two shots down the hatch and mixed drink instead of a beer made him look like the type of target Eliza may find interesting.

Sam noticed that all her targets were…well, average.  She was low-balling it to make sure that her “siren call” was read loud and clear, since she was obviously out of their league.  Which was another part of it Sam decidedly hated - using and abusing the little guy.  He felt confident if he showed her interest as an attractive man, she’d drop her current mark like a hot potato.

Now, he just needed to find her.

The best part about Eliza being a supernatural-obsessed _fan_ was that she didn’t have any powers.  She didn’t have any poison to throw at him and bend him to her will.  She didn’t know he was a hunter or that he was packing any kind of…anything.  She was just a spoiled, murderous brat who was used to getting her way.  At another time, Sam would have done more research - maybe about her childhood, what turned her into this horrible human being, but that wasn’t the goal here.

It was about completely the mission for his brother.

Halfway through his drink, he spotted her.

Sam moved casually through the crowd to where she was (unfortunately) on the dance floor with some friends.  He planned his route accordingly, because there was another smaller bar along the side.  It didn’t look as though the guy was there tonight, so that was a plus.  With a wide circle, a bunch of excuse-me’s, he caught Eliza’s eye from across the dance floor and smiled at her.

She tilted her chin to the side and examined him, he played coy.  Continuing to navigate, Sam deliberately walked past the multiple drunken women who would (and did) beg him to dance.  Which he made a show of turning each of them down, and then glanced back up to see if Eliza was still watching.

Her glance hasn’t wavered, not yet, and with one of his most-winning smiles - he tried to approach her but “chickened out” at the last second, making a beeline for the bar.    
  
This was the chase.    
  
Initial contact was made, and he knew damn well she would be following.  He’d made it apparent he was single, interested in her, blew off other woman and “just didn’t have the confidence to go through with it.”  Sam was carefully constructing and molding his character to appeal to her.

Now, as he waited, he quickly ordered one more shot and a new drink.

The clicking of high heels directly behind Sam forced him suppress a smile.  The cascading locks of blonde hair were the first thing that came into view.  He turned to watch her help herself to one of the bar stools and smile at him.

There was no denying this was the woman.

Leggy blonde, wide green eyes, gorgeous smile with that hourglass figure, yet tiny corset-trained looking waist.  She oozed confidence but seemed approachable with her body language, a kind face that was heavily contoured to perfection and batting eyelashes.  While she was done-up, she was...well, _unique_ for the Venice scene.  She hadn’t fallen victim to all the Hollywood glamour and Sam could admit she was gorgeous - just as Gabriel had said.  A solid ten.

“Hey there,” she greeted, not encroaching on his space like some drunk girl, she was simply saying hi.  “Here I thought you were going to come introduce yourself to me.  Was it the surplus of girl power in my corner?  I know we can be a little intimidating.  But that’s the point, strength in numbers, right?”

“Totally understand,” Sam agreed with a nod, “Can’t trust any guys these days.  Gotta play it safe.  And, uh,” he played at cute and unassuming, “I was.  But then I wasn’t sure if you were gonna blow me off, or what…”

“Well, why don’t you buy me a drink, and we’ll see?” Eliza suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.  “What’s your name?”

“Eddie,” he said the name on his fake ID and then asked, “What would you like to drink?  And what’s your name?”

“Eliza.”  She reached out to shake his hand and proposed, “Cherry bomb?”

“We can do that,” Sam returned the handshake and turned to the bartender, ordering the pair of shots.

After some initial and strangely innocent conversation, Sam was feeling pretty damn good (especially knowing that he wasn’t going to be poisoned by her like a normal siren) and went in for the good questions, playing the part of the sweet boy-next-door.  “I gotta say, you’re just…such an awesome girl.  How do you not have a boyfriend?”

With a half-second hesitation, she took a sip of her tequila sunrise and skirted around the answer with, “Just haven’t found _the one_.  The last guy I was talking to had a wife.  Can you believe that?!”

“Oh my God!” Sam feigned shock, “How could he do something like that?!  That’s terrible!  You didn’t deserve that, I’m so sorry.”

“What about you?”  She was also getting a bit more bold, tracing her fingertips along Sam’s forearm, “You’re…kind of perfect.  Adorable.  Dashing _and_ respectful, which is crazy to find these days - let alone in California!  What’s your story?”

“Just getting over a loss,” he shrugged, allowing a little bit of the truth sink it.  It made for the best story, right?  “It’s…difficult.  I’m trying to work past it, but I’m just stuck.  You ever been there?  When you lose someone and you can’t let go?”

She studied him and appeared genuinely apologetic, “I can’t say that I have.  But I hope you find a way to cope.  You know, they say all things come to an end.  You always heal.  I know it’s kind of Hallmark, but you can’t go through life hanging onto the past.  Gotta make a future, right?”

With a nod, Sam decided, “Let’s drink to the future?” with a bashful smile and forced himself to say, “I’m really glad I met you tonight, Eliza.”

“I am too, Eddie.”  Her smile was damn near brilliant as she flagged over the bartender who announced it was last call.

Before she could pull her purse out, Sam went ahead and paid the tab, which surprised the hell out of her.  “Wow!  The ultimate gentleman!”

“I try.”  Sam lifted his glass and they clinked together.  “I hope it’s not too forward-”

“Yes.  Yes, I will give you my number,” she cut him off before he could say anything.  “I’d love to see you again.  Hopefully soon.”

“Dinner?” he suggested right away, pulling out his phone, “Something more private and less…sweaty?”

“We can get to the sweating later,” Eliza winked, but then rethought her answer, just based on Sam’s persona and corrected: “I mean, if we want to hit up a bar or club or something.”

“I wouldn’t mind any of the above…” Sam left it open ended with his quip.

She laughed out loud, and just to make sure she hadn’t given him a fake number, he sent her a text immediately.  Her phone lit up and he felt an internal sense of victory, because he was already one step ahead and his week hadn’t even begun.

“You should probably get back to your friends, I’m sorry I kind of stole you away from them,” Sam then paused and changed it to, “Well, not _that_ sorry.  But I’ll see you again soon?”

“Of course,” she leaned in and kissed his cheek, winking and waving him off, “Have a good night!”

“You, too!”

Sam couldn’t get the fuck out of there fast enough.  He felt gross.  Even though the interaction wasn’t anything _horrible_ , he could see how she played her game.  How she was pretty damn good at it, too.  He needed a shower, the feeling of sweat - both his own and the humidity of the club clinging to him, just made him feel disgusting.

Even the air on the way out didn’t do him any favors, and he power walked.

Once he threw the door open, he internally groaned because the Trickster was perched and ready for an update the moment he strolled in.

“Sooo, how did it go?” he asked in childish delight.

Sam peeled the leather jacket off, then his shirt and tossed it to the ground.  Even the top layers removed felt like heaven, though there was a wolf-whistle and a cat-call involved.

“Got her number.  Dinner in the future.  Sexual innuendos made.”  He reported it like he was in the army.  “So far, so good.”

“Nice work, Sammy,” the asshole commended him, then asked lewdly, “Where’s the rest of my strip-show?”

“That costs extra.”  Sam didn’t know where the banter came from, but it left his loose, boozed-up lips all the same.

“How much?  Want me to fling some cash at you?  I could make it happen.”

If the hunter didn’t know any better, he would say there was interest behind those eyes…and Sam didn’t know quite what to do with it.  So he squinted at him and tilted his head.  Once again, drunk Sam was a filterless Sam, and he couldn’t control his mouth.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Do you _want_ me to be?  I’ve been watching you hunt me, and I happen to know that you, sir, haven’t gotten laid in Thor knows how long.  Are you projecting?”  With almost a purr, he added, “I’ll have you know, I am fucking _fantastic_ in the sack.”

Sam balked and took a step back.  “You’re not allowed to say those things when I’m wasted.  And repressed.  That’s unfair and-”

“Tempting?”  He stood up and crossed the room, his fingertips brushing from Sam’s neck, all the way down his bare torso, “Because you, Sammy, are the one who tempted me.  Pulling off your clothes the moment you got in here.  Admit it.  We’d have amazing hate sex.”

With a shaky breath, Sam huffed, “We _would_ have amazing hate sex.  But not when I’m drunk.  Not if I can’t remember it.  Not-”

“I wouldn’t take advantage of you,” he reached out and smacked Sam’s ass, pointedly ordering him, “Take a shower.  Sleep it off.  My offer’s open.  You know, when you’re _not_ smashed.”

A blush rose to Sam’s cheeks and he nodded.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” and he quickly turned tail and ran into the shower.

Well, not ran - or else he’d be tripping over his feet.  But he made a very, _very_ hasty escape.  Because now that the idea was planted ( _what the actual fuck_ ) it must have been because he was repressed…he was thinking about it.  He shouldn’t be.  That was the last thing he should be imagining but it was at the forefront of his mind.

What the hell was going on?

\-----------------------------

When Sam woke up he wasn’t disoriented because of the location.  No, seedy hotel rooms were his locale of choice.

It was the fact that he could smell breakfast.

With a frown already scrunched on his features, he slowly opened his eyes and sat up.  He glanced over to the kitchenette to see that, indeed, the Trickster was decked out in an apron and was fucking cooking breakfast.  He was softly humming to himself and flipping pancakes, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was when the bizarre nature of the situation slapped Sam upside the head.

This.  All of this.  This scene?

It was like he’d been dropped in an alternate universe, but that wasn’t the case.  He was here, almost on a hunt, but…a monster, one he wasn’t actively hunting right now, but hunting _for_ , was making him _breakfast_.

“You just gonna stare or grab a plate?” he asked without turning around, probably sensing Sam had awoken.  “Carbs are good for killing pesky little humans.  How many ya want?”

With the choice of not verbally responding, Sam instead pulled back the covers and stood up.  He had to admit, they smelled amazing and his stomach almost growled on command.  There wasn’t much hesitation as he turned into the small breakfast nook, after all, if the Trickster wanted him dead, he would have done it in his sleep.

Sam was sloppy, he didn’t even have a weapon lying around.

Not that it mattered.  He wasn’t here to kill this guy, he was here for his brother.

He watched as three pancakes were flipped from the griddle onto his plate, and finally, he turned around.  “Not much of a talker in the morning, huh?  No worries!  I’ve got coffee!”  And with a snap of his fingers, two cups appeared on the table.  Even though there was a perfectly good, working pot just feet away.  Sam had a feeling these were imported from somewhere special, and the other man’s was half sugar.

Taking the plate and the coffee, he silently sat down at the table where the silverware, butter and syrup was already out.  Sam remained quiet as he recounted the previous day and night.  It was only then, when he had a mouthful of (surprisingly delicious) pancake, that he remembered they’d actually discussed hate sex.  Fuck.

He was never getting drunk around this flirtatious bastard again!

There was a side of bacon slapped down on the side of his plate and when he glanced up, it was almost as though the Trickster knew what he was thinking about.  If that shit-eating grin told him anything.

“So,” he drew out, sitting down in front of Sam and dumping an obscene amount of syrup on his own mound of breakfast, “How ya feeling?”

Sam stalled as long as he could by taking a sip of his coffee, filling up a glass of orange juice while chewing and shrugging.  But it looked as though he was waiting for some kind of verbal explanation.  Sam always knew the guy was chatty, so he wasn’t really expecting any different.  Still…this domestic scene was eerie and he didn’t know how to handle it.  
  


Eventually, he came up with, “Fine.  After this, I’ll be good to go.  I’ll probably take a jog, if that’s alright with you.”  Deliberately coating those words in a patronizing drawl, Sam waited to see if he picked up on the challenge.

“Oh, you’re free to do anything you like.  Just as long as you wind up here at night, or in bed with your target.”  He gestured with his fork, “Far be it for me to take away your fitness routine,” and with a cluck of his tongue added, “God knows you must work hard for that physique.  I know I enjoyed the eye candy last night.”

“So you’re always like this.  Good to know,” Sam grumbled as he dragged a piece of bacon through the syrup.

“An appreciator of beauty?  Who isn’t?”  There was a grin tugging on his lips, eyes alive with mischief, “Besides, you’ve got me all wrong.  When it comes to humans, at least.  I’m not really the enemy here.  Even your brother said he liked my style.”

The mention of Dean made Sam freeze up, and then there was a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he was cut off.

“Think of me as karma, manifested, kiddo.  I don’t hurt those pure-hearted, kind humans.  Just the fuck-ups.  It’s vigilante justice, served cold.”

Sam instantly growled, “And _I’m_ one of those fuck-ups?  Because-”

“Not necessarily!”

God, it was annoying how easily and stealthily he slid right in to stop Sam in his tracks.  The way he spoke and dominated the conversation was vexing, the hunter couldn’t get a word in edgewise!

“See-”  The Trickster leaned in, the amount of eye contact downright daunting, “You’re what I’d call a pet-project.  I’m not trying to _punish_ you, I’m trying to _help_ you.  I have been since the beginning.  But your little stubborn ass just won’t let go.  You’re lucky I’m even giving you an out at all.”

“Then why are you?” Sam asked with narrowed eyes, “Because you’re so compassionate?  A ‘vigilante’ who’s helping humanity?”

“Because you’re a pain in my ass?  Because you’ll never learn?  Because everything I’ve done has been completely _wasted_ on you?  Take your pick!”  He gestured grandly with his hands.  “You, Sam Winchester, are the most _annoying_ human I’ve dealt with.  And I’ve dealt with a great many through the centuries.  You don’t deserve death, but you don’t deserve mercy.  So here we are - at our current stalemate.  With you getting to decide what happens next.  How exciting!”

The hunter huffed in frustration, because he was being mocked.  And there was nothing he could do about it.  He just had to sit here and take it, there was no way to retaliate, no moves to play because the Trickster was right.  And it was so frustrating.  If he could just stab him in the heart and be done with it, it would make everything so much easier…

The long sigh caught Sam’s attention and he looked back up to see the Pagan pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to fight me back,” the Trickster said, like it was obvious.  “I feel like I’m kicking a puppy!  Where’s that sass?!  Where’s that moxie?  Where’s that-”

“It’s too fucking early.”  Sam cut him off for once, “I need more coffee.  Then I’ll happily chew you out.”

That perked him right up and with a snap of his fingers, Sam’s coffee was refilled and he gleefully announced, “Well, let me know when I can get your top off.  Oh, wait - top you off.  Sorry, sometimes I get my words confused."

Once more, Sam was taken off guard and turned back to his breakfast with a new tenacity to finish it and ignore the man in front of him.

He’d been so blinded by hatred from all those Tuesdays, and then the nearly half-year of searching for this asshole that he’d all but forgotten the cheeky janitor who had been the Trickster’s original cover.  Someone who Sam had actually liked.  Someone who Sam…all right, found attractive _and_ enjoyed the casual banter with.

This reminder was odd, because he’d completely erased that version of the Trickster with a form wrapped in nothing but pure evil and malicious intent.

But…that man back at Crawford Hall.

That wasn’t some persona, that was who this Trickster was.

It was what he’d done to Sam that made the hunter create the most horrible monster he could invent to justify the search, the murderous feelings and the machine he, himself, had become.

The reminder actually did something to calm him.  Sam…instructed himself to focus on _this_ Trickster, because it was (as far as he knew) the real one.  And if he could do that, maybe this week wouldn’t have him crawling out of his skin.  Maybe he could collect himself and focus on Eliza rather than all the hatred he’d felt for his previous target, who he was currently forced to stay in this motel room with, under lock and key.

If he could just fixate on that-

“Doin’ some deep thinking, there, Moose.”  The voice was accompanied by a hand swiping his finished plate out from under him, and then taking the liberty of plucking the fork from his hand.  “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Crawford Hall,” Sam raised his voice, “Was your undercover alter ego just an act?  Or was it…I don’t know, you?”

“Interesting question,” he mused aloud, “I don’t censor myself.  I am who I am.  There was no alter ego, I just put on an ugly-ass uniform and tried to get you muttonheads off track.  Is that what you mean?”

Sam followed him with his eyes as he tossed the dishes in the sink, then turned to lean on the counter, gazing back.

“Yeah.”  With a surge of confidence under him, Sam repeated, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant.  Cocky, jokes his way out of a conversation, little bit of a God complex.  Got it.”

The Trickster tilted his chin ever so slightly, considering him.  A wicked smirk twisted on his face and he announced, “And _there’s_ the Sammy I know and love.”

Sam retorted, “Must be the coffee kicking in,” and stood up, “I’m headed out for my jog,” making a beeline for his duffle bag, even though he didn’t know if the contents were inside.

He hoped so.  It wasn’t like he’d planned on being abducted and whisked away to California.

From behind him, he heard the taunted, “Sure you shouldn’t wait twenty minutes after you ate?”

“Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll be good,” Sam snipped right back and internally rejoiced when he found his shorts and sleeveless shirt.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever needed to work off a stressful build-up of energy fast enough.

\----------------------

When Sam eventually got back well over two hours later, the Trickster was nowhere to be found.  Thank God for small miracles.

He was able to shower in peace, lounge around in silence and just…take a little while to regroup.

In addition, he sent a text to Eliza.

It was coy, sweet and asked if tonight was too soon to take her out to a nice dinner.  There was nearly no wait time at all before she replied back with a resounding and enthusiastic yes.  Then, it was up to Sam to look up locations while they casually messaged back and forth, which turned into one of those get-to-know you, cute games of twenty-questions.

Sam found it excessively boring.  Still, it was something to keep him occupied as he compared and contrasted restaurants that were good 'first date' material.

All of this, all this bullshitting, all this googling, he had to remind himself it was background research for a case.  It would be the same thing as scoping out a police database, questioning witnesses, and looking into lore.  There were just different circumstances in this one.  He had a document pulled up on his laptop to type in any information about her personal life that he deemed important enough to remember.

More study material.

Normally, it would just go into his brain and lock in, but he didn’t want to commit all this to memory for the future.  This was temporary - so he had a cheat sheet to use.

By the end of the conversation, it was late afternoon and they decided on a place and meet up time.  Along with all the “can’t wait to see you!” pleasantries until then.

Right around that time, his current roommate waltzed through the door with a ridiculous amount of shopping bags hanging from his arms.

With the proclamation of, “I come bearing gifts!” Sam shot him a bitchface as they were all dumped on his bed.

“What’s this?” he asked and marched over to the array of plastic and paper, loaded to the brim with…clothes?

“No lumberjack-chic for you.  Dress to impress.  I can’t snap you up a new outfit every night, thought you’d want a little say in what you wear,” he stated, as though it explained everything.  “Wanted to give you some alone time, too.  Plus, I like mingling with the commoners.  Enjoy!”

Sam didn’t know what to say as he began to dig through the massive amount of wardrobe the Trickster had brought back with him.  He also tried not to balk at the prices, because everything was name brand and designer.

“Don’t you think this is going to be some kind of giveaway?” he demanded, shaking the Gucci leather jacket at the Trickster.

“Hey, girls are always after a sugar daddy,” he gestured to the pile with a smirk.  “Plus, with your persona?  It’ll make you look down to Earth.  Sweet boy next door, with money, who looks like _that_?  Who the hell is gonna say no?”

Sam tried not a groan, he really did.  As he continued to take out the items and fold them into piles he realized…they weren’t gaudy, or anything.  They were an upgrade (understatement) from the clothes he used to wear in college, ones that he’d picked out himself rather than the practical hunting gear that was now his uniform.  He wasn’t sure how the Trickster did it or knew, but there wasn’t an item laying on his bed when he was through that he _hated_.

Actually, he really liked most everything: but he would _not_ admit to it.  Minus a pair of ripped skinny jeans and the initial shock of the leather jacket (that wasn’t too bad, now that he had time to examine it) but it _was_ Southern California, right?

The Trickster was practically bouncing up and down from where he was seated on his own bed, just waiting.

Sam chewed on his lip before he finally pushed out, “Thank you.  These are really nice.”

“Oh, you’re welcome!  It was fun shopping for you, I love some good old-fashioned dress up!  Do I get a runway show?”  There was something devious in his tone that Sam had come to expect.  “Whatcha gonna wear tonight?”

Turning over his shoulder, Sam asked hesitantly, “How did you know about tonight?”

“Duh.  You’re obviously gonna hustle on this and not let a day slip by,” he shook his head with a snort, “Oh, and I just know things.”

“What kind of things?” Sam asked, because now he was curious.  Also, now that he felt like he knew the Trickster a little better and he didn’t really fear him, he pried, “Just how far do your powers extend?”

“Why would I tell you that and give away all the fun?” he snickered and snapped up a sucker.  “That’s for me to know and you to guess.  Keeps ya on your toes, doesn’t it?”

All right, maybe _that_ put Sam a little on edge.  He always wondered what variety of Trickster the one in front of him was.  There was so much lore, so many different levels, varying in power and apparently he wasn’t going to be getting an answer anytime soon.  But maybe, just in case, Sam was going to have to rein in his thoughts a little more in case they could be read.

Play his cards closer to his chest.

“May I suggest the charcoal v-neck, black jeans, leather boots and burgundy jacket?”  He swirled his tongue around the candy, gaze intently watching Sam.  “You’ll look like walking sex in that.”

Not to be outdone, Sam countered, “What happened to boy next door?”

“What, you can’t be the _sexy_ boy next door?  You’re supposed to seduce her!  That’s what sirens do!”  He rolled his eyes, “Now, change into something and I’ll tell you if I’m turned on.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam almost choked, rubbing a hand down his face.

He grabbed a random selection of clothes and blew off all of the Trickster’s advances, retreating into the bathroom.  No, Sam refused to be lured in or blatantly cat called after all the shit that man had put him through.  Where did he get off, being so casual?  Flirting so naturally?  It did wonders to rile Sam up.

Unfortunately, it was in two ways.

It pissed him off, because of the living hell the Trickster had put him through and made him irate because of how easily he could have flirted right fucking back.

What did he get himself into?


	3. Keep Your Enemy (Extremely) Close

Gabriel wanted to test a little theory.

It was day two.  He was watching Sam’s progress after three days having known the woman, with a careful eye.  His approach was meticulous and actually, pretty damn genius.  He was showing Eliza the “good side” of humanity, trying to pull her away from the darkness, even though she didn’t realize that he, himself, was working inside the very same shadows.

He was playing the part of innocent, perhaps the boy he used to be back in college with that other picture-perfect blonde - what was her name?  Jess?   _Whatever_ \- Sam was luring Eliza into a life without the occult, without the supernatural, and showing her the error of her ways.  Or some shit.

Eliza, interaction by interaction, was becoming more entangled and consumed by this idea of ‘love,’ she’d dropped all her targets.  And when Gabriel decided to pop into her dreams one night?  They all revolved around Sam.

But the key thing, right here, was that the kid was on a time schedule.  Sure, he could play coy as much as he wanted but he needed to up the ante.  Sam could play the part of allowing her to seduce him into bed, let the bitch think that she was ‘special,’ that Sam or “Eddie” wouldn’t give it up for just anyone.

Gabriel was going to help push him.  Clearly, Sam needed help in the way of reverse-seduction, if he was taking it from this angle.  It was smart, every move was downright genius, but the damn pace was sorely lacking.

The other side of the coin that downright thrilled Gabriel, was after the initial night and the hunter coming back to their hideout boozed up while Gabriel spouted off cheesy pick-up lines per usual, Sam began acting _differently_ around him.  Sure, the innate hatred was there, and Gabriel didn’t blame him for that.  But there was this…consideration.  As in, the archangel would catch the hunter eyeing him with something stronger than fascination.  If the game wasn’t so fun, Gabriel had half a mind to dive into his head and see just what was going on in that pretty little brain.

This new Sam, version 2.0?  He was just full of surprises.  Especially the way he watched Gabriel - not as a threat, but almost as a potential prey sometimes.  And not the kind you wanted to stake through the heart.  It made the Trickster in him ecstatic and Gabriel connived ways that he could make Sam _snap_.  Or make the move he hoped he was seeing in those dark eyes.

So he played one of his favorite tricks.

Just when he could feel Sam’s energy approach after another date with Eliza (this one at least ended with a heated make-out) he snapped up his two favorite women clad in lingerie, and dressed himself in boxers and a tank top.

When Sam walked through the front door, he was welcomed to the sounds of giggling and laughter, one woman moaning into Gabriel’s mouth while the other was teasing at the waistband of his boxers.  Gabriel played oblivious, whispering dirty things _just_ loud enough for Sam to hear as he reached behind the brunette and dexterously unhooked her bra.

“Excuse me,” Sam’s voice echoed through the room, stopping the three in their tracks as he narrowed his eyes and snipped, “I think it’s time you left.”

“Huh.”  Gabriel chuckled out, surprised right down to the core because, there he went again.  Catching him off guard.

Any other guy would have been embarrassed.  He would have apologized for interrupting and made his escape.  Hell, if no one noticed his arrival, he would have turned tail and ran.  

But not Sam Winchester.  

He looked annoyed and he was staring past the woman and to Gabriel, as he waited for them to leave.

Just because he’d been expecting the former, Gabriel ordered his sexy little conjurings to grab clothes that he’d manifested behind the far side of the bed (where Sam’s eyes couldn’t reach) and look put out.  Once clothed, they both kissed him fiercely, narrowed their eyes at Sam and huffed as they stomped off.

“Way to cock-block,” Gabriel complained, falling backwards onto his bed with his arms crossed behind his head.  “And here I thought you’d be gone another hour or so, at least.  What’s your problem?”

“Oh, it’s _your_ problem,” Sam immediately countered, as he hung up his jacket.  “I’m supposed to stay in this motel room the duration of our deal.  I’m just staying true to my word.”

Gabriel wasn’t ignorant to the way Sam’s eyes raked over his body and his (well, shit) obvious erection.  Apparently, he’d gotten a bit _too_ into his little scheme.  More than he’d anticipated.  Then again, he’d always enjoyed being a showman.

“Ah, I see.  Such a good boy, Sammy.  You're finally learning how to follow the rules,” Gabriel commended as he watched him intently, wondering what his next move would be.  “You _could_ have joined.  Since I know you're not fucking Eliza, not yet.  Which is something that needs to happen, by the way.  You’re playing all the right cards, except for that ace.  Why hold back?”

With an abrupt belly laugh, Sam shook his head and slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.  “See, _that’s_ the problem with you.  You don’t appreciate the fine art of ‘hard to get.’  You just...take.  I get it, it’s easy.  Trickster deity, and all.  But _wanting_ what you can’t have?  Lusting after it?  And then finally, finally getting it?  That’s the sweetest reward.”

Well, all right, then.  Now Gabriel wasn’t sure if _he_ was being seduced, or what.  Because it sure as fuck was working.  He licked his lips as Sam pulled back the button-up, leaving him in a v-neck and turned to the dresser where he’d actually moved in for the week, because he accepted it was inevitable.  

When he bent over, Gabriel couldn’t take his eyes off the kid’s ass and he wondered…was this _his_ very own test?  Was Sam teasing _him_?  Did Sam _want_ him to take?  Because all these metaphors, they weren’t about Eliza anymore.  Hell no, Sam didn’t even like mentioning her name, let alone his methods, or the way he planned on getting rid of her.

Yet, he was chatty.  And he was bold.

Maybe seeing the two women with Gabriel had sparked something inside him.  Some kind of latent, pent-up sexual desire.  But he’d ordered the woman away, not Gabriel.  He wanted the pair gone and their hands off him.  Which could be taken in so many different ways.

As Gabriel continued to stare, his mouth went dry.

Sam, completely unashamed and brazen, stripped naked in front of him, facing the chest of drawers and changed into his pajamas.    
  
And, _holy hell_ , was that view of his perfectly rippling, chiseled and tanned body more than enough to rush arousal back and give new life to his pulsing cock.  Especially with the way he was bent over, that tight ass, those muscled thighs just ripe for the taking…

Gabriel had been around a long damn time and it wasn’t merely the fact that Sam was the definition of alluring.  He was mouthy, unforgiving, loyal and sharp as a tack.  There was nothing unattractive about him, except his obsession with his brother - which hadn’t reared its ugly head aloud in a while.

The kid was smart - he knew exactly what he was doing.  But the age old question was: why?

He knew damn well that Gabriel wasn’t going to give in and snap the other hunter back into existence like that.  Was _he_ a warm-up?  Was Sam playing with him because he could?  Or were those hungry looks real?  Was the hate sex he’d mentioned a lingering thought transformed into a desire?  Gabriel found himself on board.

Which was why when Sam turned around with all the nonchalance in the world, he didn’t bother willing down, nor covering up his hard-on.  Gabriel wanted to see if Sam would even notice or mention it.  See if the once-innocent kid would blush, would divert his eyes - or the changed man - the one who _he’d_ changed - would catch him off guard and surprise him again.

Even though he didn’t approach, Sam did raise an interested eyebrow and ask, “See something you like?  Or is that just lingering blue balls from the threesome I ruined?”

“Oh, that’s all you, kiddo,” Gabriel confirmed right away.  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re too smart for that.”

“What am I doing?”  He blinked widely in faux-innocence.  “I’m a lowly human, so far beneath you.  Why would you give me the time of day?”

“You’re getting too good with this acting, bullshit,” he couldn’t explain the gruff response that flowed freely from his mouth.  “What’s your endgame?  I could always force it out of you.  But I’d rather hear it from that pretty mouth.”

With a quirked grin, Sam casually laid down in his bed and turned to face the other man, “Maybe I’m just keeping up on my acting skills up, like you said.  Got a lot riding on this.  Can’t afford to get too…sloppy,” just the way he said it lit a fire in Gabriel’s belly.

“And chasing out my company was method acting, I’m guessing?”

“Gotta play up the jealous card somehow,” his gaze flickered from Gabriel’s lips, to his dick, and back again.  “In case I need it.”

“I don’t think our little siren would appreciate that kind of intensity.”

Sam licked his lips, “But _you do_.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel confirmed freely, “I happen to.   _A lot_.  Only thing I like more is that ass in all its glory.  Too bad you’re a damn tease.  Especially when I’m already riled up and ready to go.”

“Sorry about that.”  There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his voice.

….But then, Gabriel got a simply wicked idea.  Something that would finally either make or break Sam.

“You know, since you’re such a good boy and sticking to the rules, I’ll give you a night alone.  Since you loathe me.  Stay in the motel, have some privacy for once, and I’m gonna go rent another room.  Call back my girls and give you some space,” he winked and stood up to find some clothes he knew were hanging in the closet.

Right before he turned, he watched Sam’s entire body tense up and his eyes narrow dangerously before he cracked.  

And, boy, did he _crack_.

“No.  See, I don’t think that’s going to work.”  The creak of old springs from the bed accompanied him hopping up and chasing the archangel just as he wanted him to.  “I think it’d be best if you stayed here tonight.  I might be a little rusty and need some practice.”

“Practice?” Gabriel repeated the word and spun around with a devilish smile to see Sam right up in his personal space.  “Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.  If we’re going to practice _anything_ , it’s gonna be you bent over, taking my cock.”  He emphasized it with bold move, his hand diving down Sam’s flannel and grabbing his dick.

With a choked groan, the hunter reached out and grabbed his shoulders for support, hardening instantly against Gabriel’s touch.  Before he went weak in the knees, and knowing that Sam was keyed up and ready, he cornered him up against the bed and tossed him backwards.

“You think you can handle that?” Gabriel asked in a husky voice, stroking him and meeting a challenging gaze.

One that was met with darkening lust, and Sam moaned without reservation, “All I’ve been thinking about is hate sex.  You better not disappoint.”

Gabriel’s smile turned into something wicked as he promised, “Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for,” as he grabbed the elastic waistband and hauled down both Sam’s boxers and pants together.  

He needed the man naked and stretched out in front of him, under the incandescent lights of the motel room as quickly as possible.  Gabriel needed him in every way possible.  This tease, this anomaly that _continued_ to taunt him and seduce him - the things he planned on doing, the way he was going to make Sam scream.

Sam didn’t shy away from his touch or his eyes for a second.  Even though he was momentarily stunned, he gained his footing and began to fight back.  Well, not fight, per se.  He arched into Gabriel’s touch and grappled to pull his clothes off.  However, Gabriel wasn’t about to let him get his way that easily, because the fire and frustration behind Sam’s eyes was just too perfect.

“Damn you,” he hissed, “Take them off.”

“Not quite yet,” Gabriel ordered and spread Sam’s legs wide open.  “I like how bossy you are, though.  Tell me,” he started, trailing his fingers between the man’s cheeks and ghosting his touch briefly over Sam’s hole, “Just how long has it been since you’ve been fucked?”

With a sharp inhale, feeling a slippery glaze manifest over Gabriel’s fingertips, Sam quipped back, “Should have been yesterday,” and rolled his hips against the touch.

The way that Sam was responding to him, so eagerly and demanding, it was amazing.  Especially when he reached out for Gabriel’s wrist, trying to spur his fingers into motion.  All that did was cause the archangel to pull away from his cock and slap his hand, then pin it down to the bed.

He hovered over Sam, watching his growing hunger and frustration as he swirled his finger around his opening.  “So the girls didn’t do it for you, huh?” he asked, sliding a single digit up to his knuckle with, surprisingly, no resistance.  

Immediately, because Gabriel was curious, he slowly pushed in a second.

Which had the same effect.

Sam had a haughty smirk spread across his face, moaning out, “You do it for me more than those girls.  I’m picky, but I don’t discriminate,” while he rolled his hips.

Gabriel knew _damn well_ he was grinning like an idiot.  Sam had gone and floored him all over again.  Now, the image of the kid fucking himself on his fingers was mouthwatering.  He didn’t feel any remorse as he started pumping his own in and out roughly, stretching his rim as he scissor him open and twisted at random.

“I’m honored,” he replied, tightening his grip on Sam’s wrist with a bruising force, because the kid was _still_ fighting him.  “Hate sex winning out over a gorgeous brunette and blonde?  I feel all kinds of special.”

“Or,” Sam grunted, trying to keep some kind of composure while he panted and fought with his other hand to pull himself free.  Then, once Gabriel added a third finger, he moaned out loud and unabashed, needing even more time to collect himself.  “O-or I’m not blind.”

Gabriel let him rip himself free, just to see what he would do when he asked, “Oh?  And what does that mean?”

He bucked up off the bed the moment those fingers brushed his sweet spot.  Only momentarily distracted, Sam sat up just enough to whisper into Gabriel’s ear, low and filthy, “Sure, I wanted hate sex, but seeing the size of _this_?” he boldly grabbed hold of the angel’s cock, “Makes me want it even more.”

There was a growl in Gabriel’s throat from the way Sam touched him, he craved more, so much more, and he wanted it now.

“Sure you can take it, Sammy?”  He thrust against the hand palming him through his boxers, Sam’s rough touch a blessing to his pulsing dick.

Voice lust-wrecked and devious, Sam countered, “It’s not about taking it, I fucking _need_ it,” and grabbed the waistband of his boxers, finally hauling them down.

When Sam wrapped his fist around Gabriel’s naked cock, it felt like Heaven and he knew any more foreplay was only going to drive them both insane.  So he snapped away the rest of his clothes and grabbed Sam by the chin, forcing his attention.  And, hell, if those darkened, lust-drunk eyes weren’t the most gorgeous thing Gabriel had ever seen.

“You remember what I’m gonna do to you?” he asked, making it a point to curl his fingers against the hunter’s prostate again, making him keen.

“Bend me over?”  Sam chuckled darkly, “I thought there’d be more to it than that, but-”

“That was before I knew what a little cock slut you were.”  Gabriel raised an eyebrow and smirked, trying to rile him up.  “You’re right, I should have been fucking that beautiful ass, like, yesterday.”

A growl rumbled in Sam’s chest as he jerked his head just enough to catch Gabriel’s thumb between his teeth and nip.  “What the hell are you waiting for?”

In retaliation, Gabriel grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and yanked, snarling, “Good question,” right before he physically flipped Sam face down into the mattress.

Both had already cracked, they were quick and moved in tandem - Sam swiftly catching and bracing himself on his hands and knees, while Gabriel moved between his legs and roughly grabbed his hips.  He had to remember, though - not to leave any marks that the target could see.  Or…maybe he could?  And just angel mojo them away…but he didn’t want to risk Sam feeling his grace, all he wanted right now was to fuck him raw.

“C’mon,” Sam provoked, wantonly moving his hips, body begging for it even though _he_ wouldn’t beg aloud.  “Do your worst.”

“Heh,” Gabriel just shook his head, taking a second to memorize this sight.  The image of Sam bent over for him, hole ready and waiting with his body covered in sweat, practically begging for his cock - it was all too good.  “Oh, I will.  Don’t think I could hold back now if I tried.”

There was something on the tip of Sam’s tongue, something - no doubt - cheeky and snippy, but Gabriel shut him up with one, fluid slide inside his body.  Whatever words he had turned into a strangled moan, and a long, drawn-out sound of approval.

“Fuck, yes,” Sam praised as their bodies were completely connected, already swiveling his hips backwards, trying to swallow Gabriel’s cock.  “Holy hell, your dick feels perfect, splitting me in half-”

“The mouth on you!” Gabriel had honestly never been so enthralled and stunned as he was with Sam in this moment.

An honest-to-God shiver ran down his spine, and he had to move.  And from what a mouthy bottom Sam was?  He didn’t have to ease him into it.

It took maybe two, lazy rocks of his hips, just to savor the tight clench around his dick, before he began to pound into Sam for all he was worth.  And, hell, if the man didn’t give it back just as good.  Even as the wind was getting fucked from his lungs, he sat back to meet every sharp thrust, the intensity and sizzling sexual chemistry between them was off the charts.

Gabriel was so wrapped up in Sam’s response to him, in the way he provoked him, that he actively had to pull back on his strength because of how this hunter was making him lose his mind.  Making him lose control.

It was sheer insanity in the moment, the dirty words that bounced between them as Gabriel pounded into that ass without worrying for a second if Sam could take it.  He could let loose, be free, not worry about breaking someone.  Sam’s own strength was such a turn on, the way he moved under him and writhed on his cock was pulling Gabriel to the edge quicker than he’d imagined.

It hadn’t meant to be a race to the finish, but this was the definition of hot and heavy.

Everything was sloppy, messy, gritty and absolutely _phenomenal_.

When Sam clenched tighter around Gabriel’s cock and filled the room with a different timbre of moans, he knew the man was gone.  Hell, Sam’s knees buckled as he came and Gabriel (with great satisfaction) held his weight up as he fucked him through his orgasm.  And, oh, was he right behind him.

Normally, he could go for hours, but something about this, something about Sam had him blowing his load so damn quick.  The idea of filling him up was so captivating, that he continued to rock his hips, fucking his cum deeper into Sam even when he turned the pace down a bit.  And…he didn’t want to pull out.  He wanted to stay right there, which was even stranger.

Once Gabriel let Sam go, he flopped down to his stomach and then rolled onto his back, fighting like hell to catch his breath.  But…something that he noticed right away, was rather than a pleasant look of satisfaction, or even exhaustion, Sam was downright smiling broadly.  Like, _beaming_.  And…okay, that was kind of contagious and Gabriel had to double-check himself, that he wasn’t grinning like a fool.

He was just curious as to why Sam had responded that way.  And…why he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the kid.

After a few minutes, Gabriel asked nonchalantly, “So did I not disappoint?”

Sam turned his head, schooling his features to more of a grin when he responded, “I’d say that was pretty good.”

“ _Pretty_ good?”  He echoed, blinking comically.  “I dunno, from the way you were-”

A hand lashed out and slapped over top his mouth, effectively shutting him up.  “It was fantastic hate sex,” Sam amended, then released him asking, “Are you happy?”

“Oh, I’m _more_ than happy.”  Gabriel wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he playfully tugged the other man closer to him and what was more bizarre...was that Sam went willingly.

His body was pliant and he relaxed against Gabriel’s chest, just like that.  It wasn’t exactly what he’d been going for…nope.  But…this was all right, he thought.  Maybe.  He didn’t do cuddling, but Sam and all those muscles and his warmth, and okay, it felt kind of great.

“Don’t you dare bring those chicks around again,” Sam suddenly admonished, which drew a hearty laugh from Gabriel.

“Alright, I promise.  But you gotta tell me, ‘cause my interest is piqued,” he admitted, casting a glance down at the drained Winchester curled up on top of him.  “Are you bi-curious?  Or-?”

“Bisexual.  Nothing curious about it,” he said it plainly.  “I thought you would have noticed when we first met.  Or did I imagine we were flirting all the way back then?”

“Huh.  Now that you mention it.  Maybe I thought a strapping young lad like you, too good to be true.”  Gabriel recalled the memory and the friendly glances and now things were a bit clearer.  “Well, shit.  We could’ve been fucking _way_ longer than yesterday, in that case.  If I’d have known you were flirting?  Would’ve banged you back then.”

It was Sam’s turn to actually laugh and shake his head, “There’s a chance.”

“No way, totally would’ve happened,” Gabriel insisted, running a hand through Sam’s unruly hair.  “I could’ve seduced you the old fashioned way, rather than hate sex.  Even though hate sex is pretty damn amazing.”  He dropped his voice a little lower and added, “I hope when you’re with our little fake siren and you’re sitting down, playing all innocent-doting-boyfriend-material?  All you can think about is how hard I plowed your sweet ass.  How you begged for my cock.  How you loved every second of it.”

“Mm, I will be, too.”  The words just easily dropped from Sam’s mouth, and he just barely stiffened up, like he hadn’t meant to say them.

But, hey, sometimes afterglow lead to loose lips.  And Gabriel was feel quite satisfied.

It looked like Sam wasn’t letting him get away completely unscathed, when he added, “Maybe when I’m fucking her I’ll pretend it’s you.  Turn the tables a little.”

For some reason, that made Gabriel internally bristle.  Yeah, totally blaming it on the afterglow, because something stupid and possessive reared its ugly face and he was half a second away from ordering Sam against it.  To enact a no-fuck policy, thank you very much.  There must have been too long of a beat, too long of a silence, because Sam spoke up again and there was an impish flare to his voice.

“Unless, _you’ll_ bend over for me,” he drew out languidly, trailing an equally languid finger from Gabriel’s chin, down his neck and chest, to rest low on his stomach.  “There’s an idea…”

He snatched up Sam’s roaming hand and tossed it to drape around his waist.  “Counter-offer.  No and no.”

“Fine then.  I’ll just spread her soft legs, look deep in her wide, green eyes, pull on that long, blonde hair and tell her how much I’m falling in love with her.  Shouldn’t be too hard to fake.”  Sam’s voice was strangely even, but that image did nothing but egg on the jealous monster inside Gabriel even more.

“Sounds fun.  Man, don’t you wish you had more hunts like that, kid?” Gabriel quipped, and, damn, he sounded off-put even to his own ears.  “Screwing the enemy.  Literally and figuratively.   _Quite_ the treat.”

Sam didn’t seem to let it get to him.  Maybe he was getting tired, maybe he was just too comfortable, because the words, “Only one’s a treat,” accidentally slipped, again.

Which, _maybe,_ helped Gabriel’s ego, but then again it reminded them both that, yeah, Gabriel was just as much the enemy, too.  Well, fuck.  Hello reality check.  It was a fun time in fantasy-land while it lasted.

“Think the enemy would make me move?” Sam whispered.

“Huh?”

Was Sam asking what he thought he was asking?  It was a little loaded, but before Gabriel could say a thing, Sam reneged.

He rolled away, stood up with an obvious limp, and under his breath just barely (and it was only due to his angelic hearing) he heard Sam curse, “Could you be more fucking stupid-” before he made a move to the shower.

“Hey!” Gabriel sat up abruptly and Sam looked like a deer in headlights.  “Look what I can do,” he wiggled his eyebrows and snapped them both clean.

Now that they were sweat, cum and filth free, Gabriel hoped Sam felt a little better, that he could just crawl under the covers (since he’d obviously aborted a potential cuddle mission) and just get to sleep.  He’d earned it.

With a half-smile, he said a poised, “Thanks,” and did just that, looking for his boxers and then getting under the sheets - Gabriel taking pleasure in every little wince Sam made when he squatted.

Oh, that had been worth every second.

He tried not to be a creep when Sam eventually flicked off the light and started to fall asleep, but maybe he couldn’t take his eyes off him.  Gabriel had assumed it would be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, then they’d part ways.

He hadn’t anticipated pillow-talk, cuddling, talking about their past and kind-of present.  And he hadn’t predicted to like it and, hell, want more.  Gabriel almost wished that Sam had just remained slack-jawed and sleepy, going along with his random half-assed thoughts and plan to stay there with Gabriel.

Because he wouldn’t have told the kid no.  He kind of liked the weight of Sam’s body on his.  In more than one way.  Yes, the sex had been off the charts, but the other little things he never thought would happen were nice little extras.  Gabriel should have been more freaked out, but he wasn’t.

The only thing he was freaked out about was his reaction to _Eliza_.  That, right there, was not right.  Sam had a mission and needed to carry it out, and if it looked like Gabriel was sabotaging him by being jealous or some shit, he’d be hated even more.  Gabriel was fine with being hated, but for some reason it made a difference what Sam thought now.

Fuck.  Maybe that was a little more than hate sex, after all.  Maybe everything, if it swept it up and tossed it into a nice, little gift-wrapped bag, changed it into a different animal entirely.  Maybe it _was_ something to freak out about.

Gabriel craned his head back over to see that Sam was now snoozing softly, looking peaceful and damn adorable.  This kid would be the end of him.


	4. (Always) Prepare For Complications

Even though things were working in his favor, Sam knew that he had Eliza practically wrapped around his little finger already, things were…a bit more complicated now.  Well, not complicated so much as confusing.

They were chatting up a storm, everything in her body language screamed her obsession with him (which wasn’t surprising, given her history of addictive personality problems) and Sam was giving it as good as he was getting.  He could play his part, be the best actor there was, but now his thoughts were…roaming.  Which wasn’t supposed to happen.

He knew that it was time to kick it up a notch, play the part of a siren and take her to bed but he didn’t want to.  It wasn’t because he was incapable, it wasn’t because it wasn’t in the plans (hell, it was the _next step_ because he knew how easy it would be) but Sam was thinking about someone else.

How the fuck did that happen?

Instead of Eliza’s enticing stare and beautiful face, teasing him and seducing him with all the right words, Sam was imagining the asshole who’d put him in this position in the first place.  He was thinking about the Trickster’s tongue flirtatiously flicking at the straw of the mixed drink rather than the woman in the booth across from him.

His actions were the same.

But…Sam couldn’t get last night out of his head.  And how he hadn’t been fucked like that in forever.  How intense, how perfectly rough and carnal it had been.  How it was everything he craved and the release he needed.  And the stolen moments they had together after-

He could never find himself fulfilled by this woman sitting in front of him, not that that was the point.  None of this was about sex.  It was about killing, revenge and being rewarded.

How warped was his mind that his focus was blurred like this?

He already knew how to take this bitch out.  Sam had plotted a million ways for it to go down, he had contingency plan after contingency plan.  There wasn’t a chance in the world he wasn’t getting back his brother.  Still, things had…become distorted.

While he kept up the blatant flirting, he was also thinking about whether or not he’d fall into bed with his current roommate tonight.  After Eliza.  If he could even bring himself to follow through.

“Sam.”  A familiar voice surprised him by the edge of the table, one he hadn’t heard in over six months.

He turned with a furrowed brow, to see the woman with her arms crossed and a take-no-shit attitude, questioning, “Ruby?  What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”  She leaned into her hip and gave Eliza the once-over.  “I’ve been looking for you.  We need to talk, I-”

“I’m a little busy right now.  You could have called, you know,” he narrowed his eyes dangerously, hoping she’d take the hint and fuck off.

The demon set her hands on the edge of the table and leaned in, completely undeterred, “I did.  Your number’s been _disconnected_ ,” she said with a sneer.  “You playing house, these days?”

“Eddie?” Eliza got his attention before she sent a scathing glare towards Ruby, “Who is this?  And why did she call you Sam?”

“Old friend,” he said easily without missing a beat, and added something he knew would make the woman preen.  “Middle name, went by it in high school.  Ruby, this is my girlfriend, Eliza.  There’s a _reason_ I changed my number, I don’t want to reached.  So if you could just leave us be, that’d be awesome.”

“I second that,” Eliza tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Desperate isn’t a good look, honey.  He’s moved on.”

That’s when Sam remembered, his target was damn near fearless and this could actually get ugly.  Especially if Ruby wasn’t in the mood to play nice.  She obviously had something to tell him, something about a hunt - but he was already on a hunt.  Hell, she still hadn’t done jackshit to get Dean out of his contract, like she said she would, and here Sam was fighting like hell to get him back before his due date.

Ruby chuckled.  There was nothing but a patronizing drawl when she turned to Eliza and shook her head.  “Desperate, huh.  That’s a new one.  But I guess I’ll just let you lovebirds be.  Since ‘Eddie’ here cares about your fake tits more than the status of his brother.”  She stood up and cast a long look upon Sam, who tried not to freeze, before tacking on, “I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

She sauntered away and that little tidbit had him torn.

Because…did Ruby even know what the hell he was dealing with right now?  Did she know that Dean was gone in the first place?  Was there something that she could do to help him so he could drop this charade?

Sam was jolted out of his internal monologue when Eliza took his hand and looped their fingers together with, “Girlfriend, huh?  I think I like that.”

“Too soon?”  He tried to play the nervous card, catching her eyes with whatever tender fondness her could muster up even though he was distracted as hell.  “I…I know we haven’t known each other long, but it just…feels right.  And you never know what tomorrow’s going to bring, so why hold back?” he paused to look away shyly,  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I told you.”  She was assertive when she repeated, “I like it.”

“Good,” Sam eagerly replied then asked, “Do you wanna have a few more drinks before we get out of here?”

“I would love to.”

\----------------------

He couldn’t do it.

No matter what Sam did, no matter how he played it out in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to go home with her.     
  
So he boozed her up.

The pair did shots at the bar like the water until his ‘good boy facade’ had him blurting out that he felt he’d be taking advantage of her.  And he was falling for her and couldn’t forgive himself he couldn’t remember their first time together.  She ate it right up, _thank fucking God_ , then some more making out and groping later, he bought her cab fare home.

Still, he could  _say_ that he went through with it.  Or else he’d be behind schedule.

Luckily, there was something that would hold his timeframe in exchange for sex with Eliza.

He took out his new phone, photographic memory already knowing the number, and texted Ruby.  Sam needed to know what the hell she knew.  Why she’d spent all that time tracking him down.  If it had to do with Dean or not.

She met him outside at a park looking thoroughly unimpressed with the quip of, “Oh, so now we can be seen together?” poised on her tongue.

But it wasn’t like Sam was friends with her to begin with.  She was just another means to an end.  So he stood up to meet her and shrugged.

“What is it?  Why did you need me?”

“Hello, major demon activity in Missouri?  The fuck are you doing, flouncing around with a bimbo in _Venice Beach_?  You were a machine, taking them out left and right, so I wondered where the hell you went.  You fell off the map!”  She challenged him, “And rumors were Dean isn’t with you but I haven't heard about the dealers come collecting?  What the hell is going on?  I thought-”

“Dean’s dead!  I’m trying to get him back!” Sam shot her down, because no way in hell was she about to shout at him about what he should and shouldn’t be doing.  “I’m working a case!  Thanks for almost blowing my cover!”

“Really?” she asked dryly, “Getting some chick to spread her legs is a case?  It doesn’t even look like it worked.  Here I thought you were a pro with the ladies, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, because all it did was remind him of Dean.  “Did you not hear the part about my brother?”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way-”

“No!  It’s not _Lilith_ , it’s not the _demon deal_ , it’s a fucking _Trickster_.  I was trapped in a time loop of Tuesdays, I watched Dean die, over and over again and then eventually on Wednesday, he died for real.  But the Trickster said he’d take me back, bring Dean back, if I-” Sam huffed and shook his head, “This chick.  She’s crazy, she’s been pretending to be a siren even though she’s human, and it’s actually been working so-”

“The Trickster wants _you_ to turn the tables,” Ruby filled in with rapt attention and intrigue, “Wow.  That’s…very interesting.”

“Interesting?” Sam repeated, then his voice grew in intensity, “Interesting?!  My life has been a living hell of tracking this fucker down!  I’m in the homestretch, you cannot get involved!  I can’t-”  All right, he needed to take in a deep breath and collect his thoughts.  “Missouri will happen.  After I get her to kill herself.”

Ruby just stared at him before she took a step in and crossed her arms.  “What happened to you, Sam?  You’d never do that to a girl, no matter-”

“She’s the same as the things we hunt, okay?”  Sam hated the pity in her voice, “And you’ve been MIA, you don’t know what I’ve gone through.  So like I said, just leave me alone and soon, Dean and I will get back to hunting.”

There was a strange kind of sympathy in her eyes as she gave Sam his space and sighed.  After tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she told him, “If you need me.  If you need my help on this one, just…text me.  You have my number.”

He was taken off guard by the offer and blurted, “Why?”

With a wry laugh, she explained, “Because you’re constantly living in fear of your brother’s death.  It wasn’t bad enough that he signed over his soul?  Now another creature makes good on killing him and you have to fight yet another battle to keep him with you in the little time you have left?  That’s not fair, Sam.  And I know the world ain’t fair, but it sucks.  And if you need me to come kick some ass-”

“If you do, he won’t bring Dean back,” Sam admitted, and then added, “Plus, he’s really powerful.  I don’t think you’d make it out.”

“Aw, worry for me?”  She winked and smacked him on the arm.  “Depends on the Trickster.  But the girl?  If you want me to play the part of the jealous ex, so you can prove your love or whatever, send me my cue.  Get this over with.  It’s annoying.”

Sam actually laughed, because that was so…Ruby.  To find a situation like this ‘annoying.’  It was decently refreshing, after all this time, not to be babied but to be aided in some way that could make a difference.

“I may take you up on that.  I’ve just…gotta go convince him that I nailed her tonight.”

“Wait.  You’re staying with him?” she asked with surprise.  “And…you’re both still alive?”

“It’s like he’s babysitting me.  So it’s probably good we had this chat.  More time for said nailing.”  Sam sighed heavily and balked in surprise when Ruby stepped in towards him-

And roughly kissed down his neck.

“What the hell?!”  He jerked back to find a devilish grin on her face.

“Hey!  You were supposed to fuck her and you’re clean!  Look.  Lipstick smeared but no mark for your target to get pissy over.  It’s something, right?”  In that moment, she looked all the demon that she was.  “You’re welcome.”

Ruby took it a step further to muss up his hair, and then stepped back with a nod of approval.  “If I knew some kind of spell to make you smell like sex, I’d do that too.  But that’s not in my bag of tricks.  My bad.”

Sam paused in thought before he cringed and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt, voice cold when he said, “More lipstick.”

With a wicked smirk, she purred out, “Why, I never knew you liked me that way,” but did as he requested, nothing more, nothing less.  Although, she did examine her handiwork and nod in appraisal, “Looks like you had a good night.”

“Fantastic,” he replied flatly.  “All right, I should get back.  But I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Ruby just nodded and waved, walking out into the night.

With a heavy sigh, Sam prepared for his so-called walk of shame, even though the shame wasn’t the usual kind.  It felt more like defeat, but he had enough time to build up another mask before he reached the motel.  He should have gotten a cab, but the night sky and the breeze was sobering even though he wasn’t completely drunk.

Buzzed, sure, tipsy, most definitely.  But the walk centered him, because everything was turned upside down.

He was behind schedule with Eliza.  Ruby had now thrown herself into the picture.  And Sam?  He was constantly preoccupied with the Trickster.  This was much stickier than he’d originally intended it to be.

\----------------------

Gabriel was downright _seething_.  For a multitude of reasons.

All of them centered around a certain demon bitch entering the picture.

The moment he’d sensed her presence, the god-awful stench of black-smoke slithering into the area, he’d felt himself gag.  But then the familiar way she’d asserted herself into Sam’s life, oh - that was _not_ allowed.  Not for a second.

Of course, he was keeping tabs on Sam.

Then the second she laid her filthy lips on him?  He had to hold back from going righteous-fury and smiting her ass on the spot.

Well, it wasn’t like he was physically there and capable of smiting.  Gabriel was astral projecting, and watching from afar, but he was a second away from flying his happy ass right on over and dealing the death blow.    
  
Ruby.  He’d heard of her.  He’d heard rumors about her fight against Lilith and being on the side of humanity, but he knew damn well that was bullshit.   No demon would ever side with humans.  It wasn’t in their nature, humans were mere prey and playthings.   
  
And Sam was _not_ hers to play with.

…Not that he was Gabriel’s, per se, but he sure was in the meantime.

After all, he’d had Sam screaming underneath him last night.  Something that bitch could only dream of.

Gabriel would have to keep a close eye on her.

It was interesting, the way Sam had used her to his advantage with their siren-wannabe, though.  It was smart, something he could work with in the future, so maybe the kid got lucky.  But he still hadn’t made his move.  Even though he attempted to use Ruby to fool Gabriel into thinking he had, or something.  But he wouldn’t be fooled.

Especially after a display like that.  Was his possessive side showing again?  Yes.  He was the only ‘creature’ that was allowed to fuck with the littlest Winchester right now.  And as long as Sam was playing his game, it would be the only game.

Gabriel was laying in wait for the man to return, and when he did, Sam’s eyes lingered on him…longer than usual.  Before he even said anything.  Which was interesting.

“So how did it go?” Gabriel, apparently, needed to lead in.  Since the hunter was surprisingly silent.

“It was a good date.  She seemed thrilled when I referred to her as my girlfriend.  Normally, any other halfway sane woman would have headed for the hills, but we both know we’re dealing with crazy,” he reported as he locked the door behind him.  “I want to make sure she’s in love.  Fast, hard and deep.”

He pitched his voice a little lower, staring right at Gabriel.  Which perked up his interest, but he knew part of the reason was because of the liquor courage Sam had propelling him forward.

“Oh yeah?  Is that how you like it?  Speaking from experience?” he mused as he flipped through channels on the television, barely paying any attention to Sam.

Yes, he was being petty.  But demons?  Come on!  Sam could do better.  Disgusting bottom-feeders, and seeing that lipstick smeared all over him in person just turned Gabriel’s stomach.  He didn’t want anything to do with the hunter while he wore the scent of black-smoke on his skin.

Still, Sam crossed the room, invading his personal space and said, “Yeah.  I’d say.”

“Anything else I should know?  Did you pull the trigger?”  He didn’t even look up from the TV when he landed on an old movie.

He could feel Sam’s frown, and then the kid actually admitted, “No.  I was a gentleman.  Told her I didn’t want to take advantage of her while she was drunk.”

All right, that made him pause because that _hadn’t_ been the plan, he’d told Ruby as much.

“Hmm.  Interesting approach.  But it’s smart.  Stay unassuming, stay chaste, make her think she’s the one corrupting your beautiful little pure heart.  Then turn the tables.”  He hummed his affirmation.  “But you need to fuck her soon.  Get the layout of her place.  Prepare for the grande finale.  Figure out how she’d do it.  Does she have an apartment to swan dive from?  Is it a good height for a snapped neck?  Is she a pill popper?  What are the means?  Investigate.”

A growl was in the back of Sam’s throat when he said, “I know how to do the job.”

Gabriel cast a glance over to him, scrutinizing him and agreed, “I suppose you do.”

He hadn’t realized just how close Sam was.  How easily he could reach out and grab him, how, in the back of the hunter’s mind, he probably wanted him to.

Sam was leaving himself wide open for an attack.  He wanted more, Gabriel could tell - all the signs were there.  It made him smirk because after just one night, the kid was hooked.  Gabriel prided himself on his performance in the bedroom and wouldn’t have expected anything less.  To be honest, there was nothing more that he wanted than to grab a hold of Sam by the throat and shove him back down into the mattress.

But he was being petty.

That demon just got under his skin.  Sam should know better after all the demons who’d fucked with his life he, was getting cozy with one and that would be his downfall.  The idiot wasn’t learning anything, and these lessons weren’t for shits and giggles.

“Is there something you want?” Gabriel asked him plainly.

Sam was ruffled.  He could see it, Sam was biting his lip with his eyes narrowed and a half a second away from saying it-

Until Gabriel cut him off with, “All right.  Get to bed.  Tomorrow you need to do more work.  Maybe even canvas her place, since you couldn’t get her into bed tonight.”

“It’s not that I couldn’t,” he corrected with barely-contained irritation, like Gabriel was challenging his manhood, “It was a strategic choice.  You even said so.”

“I did, didn’t I?”  Gabriel clucked his tongue, “Well, keep up the good work.”

There was so much tension in Sam’s frame as he spun around and headed right for the bathroom for a shower.

Thank Dad.

Gabriel sagged a bit from where he’d been haughtily perched up in his bed.  He almost wanted to jump the kid when he came back out, but this would get under Sam’s skin.  With a smirk, he knew it would make him want him more.  The casual blow off, a little bit of the silent treatment, it wasn’t planned, but it _was_ working.

And he knew Sam would eventually break again this time.  After all, Gabriel loved a good build-up, and to see the hunter lose his cool would be a beautiful sight.  Seeing him last night had been delicious enough, just thinking about it now was enough to get him hard.  But he had to will down any threatening erections because that wasn’t apart of his plan.

Oh, he knew he’d get his.  Even though it wasn’t tonight, the payoff would be fantastic when the time came.

\------------------------

Sam wasn’t happy with the way last night went, whatsoever.  He’d spent the entire night thinking about that asshole instead of his date, he was almost excited to get back to the motel, half-hoping for a repeat and he got, what?  Nothing.  Less than nothing.

The dick acted as though the night before never happened, that they hadn’t gotten somewhere or reached a kind of new understanding.  He was cold…uninterested, when, even on a bad day he was the flirtatious Trickster who batted his fuckin’ eyelashes at anything that walked.

Sam had no idea how to take it, so needless to say it led to a shitty night sleep.  Whatever.  Maybe he expected too much.  He was putting human characteristics on a creature who didn’t deserve them, and he got burned.  His sole focus was his mission, and that would be it.

Maybe he got a couple hours towards the end of the night, leading up until dawn…

And, fuckin’ _perfect_.  He woke up with a raging case of morning wood.

He’d already taken a shower last night, he wasn’t going to hop in to take care of it now because he would wait until after a jog but he couldn’t exactly-

…You know what?  Why the fuck not just take care of it now?  

Sam passive-aggressively decided it didn’t matter one bit, as he tugged his boxers down under the sheets, since the opposite party was _clearly_ uninterested and this was just another human thing.  It wasn’t Sam’s fault he was sequestered to a motel room against his will.  As he spit on his palm, he figured he was allowed to take care of his needs.  Hell, as he wrapped his hand around his cock, he was positive it was his damn _right_ to.  Especially since he didn’t get any last night.

He had been so turned on and ready to go, too.  All night he’d been thinking about it, it wasn’t a shock he’d woke up hard after such a let down.

Sam steadily jerked his dick, getting the entire length wet and relishing the glide of his fist.  He brushed his thumb over the slit, precum already beading up at the tip.  Using the slickness to circle and tease his sensitive cock head, a moan escaped his throat.

It wasn’t like he was actively trying to stay silent, not like he did when he was in the shower on hunts with his brother, but he hadn’t expected that one.

He was facing away from the other bed anyway, hell, he didn’t even know if the other man was there to hear him.  It didn’t matter anyway.  

Sam continued without any shame.  

He twisted his wrist with each pull, tugging with a little added roughness that was sending warmth through his body and heat started to pool in his stomach.  Although, he planned on savoring this for just a while longer.  There was no place for him to be this morning, so why not just jerk off in bed?

Or so he thought.  Because he definitely heard the rustle of sheets and the springs of the mattress behind him shift - which was a dead giveaway the Trickster was there.  And on the move.  Hopefully, it was out the door.

Except, Sam couldn’t have been more wrong.

Not just the comforter, but the sheet, the _everything_ that was covering him was literally ripped away from the bed.  Leaving him caught with his boxers down, cock out, completely exposed with a flustered looking Trickster hovering over his hips.

His expression was stone set, his voice husky and pupils blown wide open when he said, “I thought that’s what you were doing.”

No matter how lust-wrecked he looked, Sam was not going to give him an inch.  He wasn’t happy with him, he wasn’t going to play his game.  So he continued his business, just out of reach, humming happily into his own touch.

“Yeah, humans wake up with hard-ons sometimes,” Sam mocked, switching it up and fucking into his fist - just to give him a little extra show.  “Thought I’d take care of it…” he moaned, another gush of precum drooling down his cock, making his hand that much more slick, “Y-you’ve got your answer.  What else do you want?”

Sam watched with internal glee as a literal battle took place on the Trickster’s face, pushing his boxers down to his knees, having his rapt attention.  He couldn’t take his eyes away from Sam, every flick of his wrist, every roll of his hips.  And when Sam decided to spread his legs, just to fuck with him, a breath caught in the other man’s throat.

He’d never seen the Trickster this conflicted, this out of control, and it was mesmerizing.  Sam wasn’t an exhibitionist, but this, right here?  This was something he could very well get off on.  So he took it to the next level.

With the man hyper-aware of his every move, his jaw dropped open when Sam sucked on three of his own fingers and then dropped them between his legs.  He lifted his pelvis just so, because even if the angle was awkward, he wanted the Trickster to watch his fingers, one by one, disappear into his already-loose hole.  Since Sam had _him_ to thank for that.

He slowed everything down, from his fingers sliding in and out of his hole to his hand around his cock, because Sam knew he’d be able to get off like this in a heartbeat - especially when he was being watched.  And he had to make a point here.  Even though he was ridiculously aroused, ready to cum and so hard it hurt.

“What do you want,” Sam demanded, because for the Trickster to be hovering like this?  To be responding to him like this?  And pull _that_ bullshit from last night?  He deserved something.  And that question was just open ended enough.

“You,” the word just fell from his lips, “Need to see you cum.  So fucking hot,” his voice was hoarse, he was completely captivated.  “You’re such a fucking cock-tease, Sam.”

“No, I’m not,” he retorted, slowly stroking his erection again.  “This had nothing to do with you.  You came over here and made it about you.”

The Trickster actually jerked back a bit, “You think I could _actually_ stay away?” he sneered, “You think that I hear those beautiful noises coming from your lips, and I could stay away?”

“Worked pretty well last night,” Sam looked him in the eyes unapologetically, then started to curl the fingers he had buried in his ass, finding his sweet spot.

He tossed his head back, arching off the bed and moaning shamelessly.  Sam could see the other man’s hands reach out and retreat, he was trying so goddamn hard to keep away.  So Sam kept going, kept up the show.  Hell, he even let loose more than he was used to, for the Trickster’s benefit.  He-

“I had a reason!” Gabriel suddenly blurted, which caused Sam to pause, but not stop.

Instead, Sam shook his head and started jerking his cock faster, “Woulda been nice to hear that reason,” because he was too damn close to hold back any longer.  “W-woulda been nice to not feel completely used, but, hey, as long as you get a show-” he boldly winked, because he finally, finally had one up on him.

Sam had no idea if it was the pumping of his fingers against his prostate, the thrill of being such a coveted sight, or the brutal, final rhythm against his cock.  But when his orgasm hit, it ripped through his body like a tidal wave and left him seeing stars.  He hadn’t had the foresight to pull up his shirt ever since he’d been attacked, so cum was soaking through the fabric onto his skin but really?  He was too blissed-out to care.

Sam was riding out the waves; they felt like bright sunbeams cascading on his skin and warming him on the inside and when he opened his eyes - the Trickster was still there.

Except, he was sitting cross-legged next to Sam, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought.  Why…was he still there?  Shouldn’t he be jerking off somewhere, now that he got his jollies from watching Sam?  Now Sam was awkward, as he pulled up his boxers, because he didn’t know if he should just get up and go wash up, or-

“I didn’t mean for you to feel used.”  Those words stopped him in his tracks

Sam sat up and stared blankly, because he hadn’t been expecting that confession.  Especially with the amount of conviction the Trickster had put behind those words.

“I mean, it’s not like-” Sam paused and tried to think the best way to say it without sounding like he was weak.  “We were using each other.  It’s fine, it’s-”

“No, last night was different.  I was being callous for a reason,” he grumbled out the admittance like it was pulling teeth, and finally met Sam’s gaze.  “I can feel when demons are in town.  And I wasn’t aware that you happened to be besties with one.  It rubbed me the wrong way, it goes against everything I’ve been teaching you.  And I _wasn’t_ happy.”

His eyes doubled in size because…the Trickster knew about Ruby?  Why would he care about demons and why her?  Why-

“She’s helped us out in the past.  She’s not my bestie, she’s looking for ways to get Dean out of his deal.  Well, before _you_ killed him.”  Sam couldn’t believe how ridiculous those sentences sounded strung together.

“Sam, I don’t wanna talk about her, okay?  Just know she’s bad news.”  The Trickster emphasized, “The point is, I wasn’t using you.  That’s not what I thought it was about.  Mutual using, like you said?  That’s something different.  You get that, right?  I’m sorry about last night, but, fuckin’ hell, you are irresistible.”

He whistled and, for the first time, reached out to run his hand through the drying cum on Sam’s shirt, “I could watch you all day.  Can’t expect to do something like that and not get my attention.  The sounds you make, your body quivering… Just wish I could’ve had a more…active role,” he made a thoughtful face, then acknowledged, “But I probably didn’t deserve it, so there’s that.”

Sam was speechless as the Trickster leaned in, just close enough to nip his earlobe and whisper, “Watching you cum?  If you had _any_ idea how stunning you looked, I could get off without even touching myself.  Fuck, kid, you’re like my wet dream come to life.”  He pulled just far enough away to run his thumb along Sam’s lower lip.  “I want to steal you away, this time for real.  Make you all mine…”

But then a switch flipped, like he was somewhere else, caught up in the arousal and the energy surrounding Sam, forgetting once more what he was saying.

“Point being!  I was an asshole.  I’ll try to stop being an asshole, but I can’t promise anything because it’s kind of in my genetics,” he patted the side of Sam’s face, even though Sam wanted to lean in, to be closer but - fuck!  “I know you wanna go for your jog, and much thanks for such a _lovely_ show this morning.”

When the Trickster hopped off the bed, he snapped Sam into his jogging clothes, clean and added in a flirtatious, “I’ll buy tickets anytime you plan an encore.  Maybe next time there can be some audience interaction?” he suggested with a purr and waved, “ _I’m_ hopping in the shower this time!  See ya when I see ya!”

Sam was, more or less, dumbfounded.

There was just so much information - apologies, confessions, moments of weakness, moments of humanity, things that made Sam want the Trickster more.  Things that made him afraid and hopeful at the same time.

As usual, he never got a chance for a rebuttal, to have an _actual_ conversation.  It was a monologue, or stream of conscious thoughts that ended with Sam being sent on his way.  Shooed out the door.  At least he was in his jogging clothes.  He did his best thinking while he ran and, wow, there was a hell of a lot to think about.

Now Sam had to figure out how many steps forward, or back and then forward again they were.  God, his brain was frazzled.  All he wanted to do was jerk off, and that’s what he got?  What the hell?


	5. Disregard Delays That Could (Should) Have Been Avoided

The morning has been so bizarre, Sam was still trying to process it.  In fact, after his jog he told the Trickster he was headed over to do the canvassing they were speaking about earlier.

He knew for a fact that Eliza worked a nine to five, so he’d easily be able to sneak into her apartment.  It was simple to run her info through the databases and find where “home” was.  Unfortunately, one of the first things he noticed when he came upon the address was that the structure was five stories tall.

So much for a solid swan dive.

She must have made some serious dough off of these dudes, because it was a nice building with an elevator and key cards, which meant Sam had to loiter a bit before he pulled out his puppy eyes to get in the front door.  After that, he took the stairs up to the fourth floor where she lived.  Picking the lock wasn’t even a half-second problem, but when he stepped inside he knew he had to be careful.

Permeating the entryway was the scent of herbs.

Even though she’d given up witchcraft because quote, “she sucked” didn’t mean she didn’t have some kind of easy, basic step-by-step supernatural security in place.  So Sam needed to be especially careful with where his feet fell.  Making sure not to disrupt any lines of salt, goofer dust, or strange concoctions she thought were meant for protection.

He didn’t want to wander out of here as a gerbil, or something.

Although, the Trickster _would_ find that absolutely hilarious, no doubt.

Once Sam did a check for hexbags (one of which he found, that looked as though a grade schooler put it together and held no real magic), he was free to explore.  Everything looked decently normal on the outside until he reached the bathroom and the bedroom.

Inside all the drawers in the bathroom were crystals, spell ingredients she probably never got to use, and magical objects that he couldn’t determinate were juiced up or not.  He tried not to touch, but then again if they _were_ still armed and dangerous?  That could be a way to take her out.

Medicine cabinet revealed not much of anything.  When it sure as hell should have.  This woman needed help, it _should have_ been littered with prescriptions to balance out her brain chemistry.  If she wasn’t already so far gone and had killed so many men, Sam would have urged her medical treatment but the damage was done.  It wasn’t a mental disorder anymore, murder was never a side effect of illness that needed fixing, it was something dark within the person that was a choice.

He dug around until he hit some pay dirt.  There was a drug kit taped underneath the sink.  It didn’t even look like it was hers - it looked like a care-package to send one of her targets.  But this could prove useful in the future.  He could stage an overdose with something like this very easily…

When Sam finally reached her bedroom, he felt dirty.

Okay, if it was a normal bar and he’d met Eliza on campus during his college days, he would have considered her a pretty cool girl.  Not his type, but there were no red flags raised unless he knew in advance something was amiss.  When he walked into here?  Well - this was the blaring red flag anyone with eyes could see.

There was an altar Sam recognized with sigils for summoning, grimoires for days, lore books stacked sky-high that reminded him of a corner of Bobby’s house.  And what was worse?  When he opened her closet, amidst the array of clothing, ranging from girl next door to slutty temptress...he was pretty damn sure he found a trophy collection.

Although she couldn’t exactly take chunks of flesh from those who “heard her siren song” or else become a suspect, she sure had a lot of clumps of hair, nail filings, and other random DNA pieces as physical proof to _herself_ that she was a success.  Sam scrunched his nose and slammed that door shut, right away.

God, _people_ were always the fucked up ones.

He continued going through her drawers, finding more occult objects and books, like she just couldn’t collect enough, and then underneath one false drawer he found the ultimate winner.

Eliza actually had a collection of weaponry.

She wasn’t only aware of the supernatural, she could protect herself from them.

Sawed-offs with rock salt, weapons made of iron, silver daggers, a small duffle worth of things one could’ve pulled right from the back of the Impala.  There was one blade that caught his eye.  It was titanium-looking from top to bottom, no disconnection between the blade and the handle, and it was geometrically beautiful.  Sam could almost sense the familiar…power? coming from it.

He’d never seen a weapon like this, it wasn’t silver, it wasn’t steel, it was something different.  If he hadn’t been breaking and entering he had half a mind to take it with him.  But for now, he’d memorize the shape and do research on it later.

The fact remained: Eliza was loaded to the gills with damning evidence against her once she was dead.  All the families would have closure, based on that little trophy room.  Sam wouldn’t have a problem staging a suicide if he couldn’t pull off the heartbreaker move (which he was pretty confident he could) and there were so many things in here to have an ‘accident’ with.

He felt confident when he was leaving, that once he was invited back here (God knows how she’d make the place look acceptable) he’d know what to do.  Or where to go if she tried to attack or some bullshit.

Now, if only he felt confident about _another_ aspect of his life, he’d be golden…but he was at a complete loss.  All he knew was that he needed to regain some sense of control.

If he had control, even a little, that was something the Trickster would respond to.  He had it this morning; he could keep it up if he fought for it.  Right now, Sam honestly felt like he was in the driver’s seat and that was a damn good feeling.

But the real question: where was he headed?  If he was driving the proverbial car, where did he want to go?  Where did he want _them_ to go?

He’d figure it out soon enough.  Sam had a few ideas, he’d let them simmer and play out, because as much as he’d like to say he had time…he really didn’t.

\---------------------------

Although Gabriel had been waiting and watching over Sam’s every move, the most anticipated moment would come when the hunter came back into the motel room.  What excuse he would have for not going through with the carefully outlined plans this time?  Well, the Trickster’s plan.  Gabriel, on the other hand, was almost counting his blessings.  It was foolproof, really, but Sam _wasn’t_ doing his duty.  Still.

Well, he was doing half of it.  This idiot was already falling for him, and hard, Sam just needed to implement finesse - the one, perhaps, an incubus would and led the self-appointed siren to her own death call.

Gabriel could feel Sam’s energy drawing closer before he could hear the tires of the shitty old truck he’d hotwired today, skidding into a parking spot.  It was so god-awful it made Gabriel cringe, and he hoped it was only used to get Sam from point A to point B.  Jesus, if Eliza saw that piece of shit, she’d run - any chick would.  Why Sam had picked _that_ hot mess was beyond him.  The squeak of the un-oiled door and clunk of heavy metal was the prelude before the key was turned into the motel door.

When Sam flicked on the lights, he didn’t even flinch when he saw Gabriel stretched out in one of the chairs with his devil-may-care grin.

“So how did it go?” he asked the hunter, just as he had the previous nights, and leaned forward with interest.

“Everything’s on schedule.  I fucked her and she can’t get enough,” Sam’s response was haughty as he made his way over.

Huh.  Out of everything Gabriel had been expecting, he hadn’t been ready for an _outright lie_ this time.  What made him fib today and not the previous?  What made him so bold and icy today?  
  
It was a throwback testament to how he’d warped the human.  Poor Sam six months ago was all puppy eyes and pleading words, now he was sharp-tongued and could bullshit with the best of them, and the man in from of him...Sam had  _regressed_ since their last encounter.  Which was all his fault and he kind of hated himself for it.  Gabriel may have even believed the story, if it wasn’t for the focus of his eyes. 

Sam was clearly blowing his mission off.  He must have had another idea to deal with this bitch, serve up her just desserts, because instead of elaborating he was stalking towards Gabriel.

He looked up as Sam made himself comfortable, standing right between his legs and cuffed a finger under his chin.  “Does that make you jealous?”  There was a quirked grin on his face as he asked, and it forced Gabriel to mull over the question.

Gabriel knew it was bullshit, Sam hadn’t touched the girl, and now Gabriel had an inkling as to why - but the thought still lingered… would it have bothered him?  In a way, it was a relief that Sam was seducing her with his charms, wit and good looks rather than just hauling her into the bedroom.  Sure, that would be easy enough, probably would have been a great strategy, using that caveman strength too...  

Of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up with the hunter.

Sam, asking this question as such a bold move, must have been due to their conversation this morning.  He must have done a hell of a lot of reflecting and now he was making some moves.

All of which, were interesting choices.

And it was time for Gabriel to buck the hell up.  He would not be outdone by this child, just because he confessed to him that he didn’t want poor Sammy to feel used.  No, the kid was letting this go to his head, and that wasn’t happening.

“Now why on Earth would I get jealous,” Gabriel rose to his feet, “When _I’m_ the one who told you to bend the bitch over and make her forget her name?”

A flash of something appeared in Sam’s eyes, and Gabriel’s sheer presence knocked him back a step.  He allowed that pulse of energy to clear him a space, this time taking the lead and roughly grabbing Sam’s belt.

“Would that make you happy?” he teased lightly, “Me?  Jealous?”  With a tilted chin, he watched Sam very, very carefully.  “I think you’re enjoying our arrangement more than you ever thought you would.  You’ll never say it aloud, of course.  Pride, and all that shit.  But I think,” Gabriel nimbly removed the belt and yanked it free of the hunter’s jeans, “you might not hate me as much as you used to.”

The creature Sam had become was something fierce, he didn’t even hesitate to say, “I do hate you.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

“An interesting conundrum, we have here,” Gabriel’s excitement had sparked to life.  “How shall we solve it?”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single part of him who hated Sam.  He’d grown on him, and feigning indifference was a challenge, _but_ he had to match Sam’s demeanor - at least a bit.  At least Gabriel didn’t have to fake the blatant lust he felt.  That was free-flowing and downright encouraged.  Hell, he was hungry for him and he could see it reflected in those hazel eyes before him, too.

It was a whole new kind of game, one that Gabriel decidedly loved, but he needed to play his cards right.  This was the type of situation that could go south, fast - since he’d already fucked up once.  He was just a “monster” to Sam, one that he wanted - which was evident from the straining erection trapped beneath his jeans.  But Gabriel needed to keep up the guise of a monster, no matter what.

Gabriel had _actually_ mused about telling him the truth.  Maybe it would make the kid loathe him less.  Maybe even give them an opening for working out the problems between them but there were too many reasons why it was a horrible idea.  Sam couldn’t know that he was an archangel, it was too soon, that bomb hadn’t been dropped and then, oh, the trouble would outweigh any benefit.  
  
All for Gabriel’s selfish gain of winning Sam’s favor and surprisingly having left the shadows of his previous anger contempt. 

“Why are you hesitating?” Sam asked as Gabriel’s fingers brushed over the obvious bulge.  “Last time, when everything happened, you _took_.  Then when you decided to be a goddamn voyeur, you didn’t even hesitate.  Why aren’t you-”

“I was waiting for you to problem solve.  Give me something to work with.  I thought you were creative, Sammy,” Gabriel taunted, and exchanged his roaming finger for the raking of his nails.

It drew out a breathless whimper from the hunter, but then he demanded, “Are you being a tease because you think I’m sloppy seconds?”

“Hah!”  Gabriel actually tossed his head back, “Unless she pegged you or I got my research wrong and she comes complete with a dick, you’re not even close to sloppy seconds.  That tight ass belongs to _me_.”

Sam’s eyes visibly darkened by the statement, which Gabriel found intriguing - then he pronounced, “…What are we waiting for?”

“A simple question,” Gabriel led in, because this was something that piqued his curiosity.  He snapped Sam’s coat, flannel and shirt away and yanked roughly at the button and zipper of his jeans.  “Why?”

“W-why what?”  He stammered out, trying to help Gabriel pull away the offending article, not registering, or caring, about the words at all.

So Gabriel slammed everything to a halt.  He wanted an answer, dammit.  Gabriel restrained Sam, he held him in place with his superior strength and grabbed his chin.

“It’s not a matter of _letting_ me, because I'd never force you.  Even I'm not that evil.  It’s a matter of you wanting me.  Why?”  There was strength behind the demand, and Sam pursed his lips.

He didn’t look shy or caught, he simply didn’t know if he wanted to admit it.  To Gabriel or himself, it seemed.

“If I tell you, that’s it.  No more stalling,” Sam all but commanded, which Gabriel answered with a simple nod.  “Good.”  With only a half beat of a pause to get his breath under him, Sam finally confessed, “I hate you for taking my brother away.  I hate that you did that with every fiber of my being.”  The cruel words changed into something more straightforward, “But you?  What you do?  It makes sense.  All the people you kill, they have it coming and I can’t see you as an evil monster when you’re dispensing justice.”

He glanced down to see Gabriel watching him with inquisitiveness, and as he reached for his pants, hoping to pull them down Sam added, “I’m attracted to the powerful, unforgiving vigilante.  The you who never hesitates, who’s sure in every move he makes, the one who isn’t belligerently power-hungry - but _just_.  I know I‘ll get Dean back, so I'm pretending that other part of you doesn't exist.”  Knowing Gabriel was hanging on every word, Sam leaned forward and dropped his voice, “The part that _does_ exist; he fucked me better than I’ve ever been fucked in my life.”

Gabriel couldn’t hold back anymore.  He ripped the last bit of clothing from Sam’s body, which the hunter seemed to be expecting because he was watching with a dark smile before he was shoved back onto the mattress.

Still, all those words - they sparked something inside the angel and he found himself hovering after he pulled off his own shirt.  After he teasingly trailed his tongue along Sam’s throat (since marks would obviously throw their whole plan off), he couldn’t help but admit, “Oh, if only you were here for other reasons…”

Sam dug his fingers into Gabriel’s hips and bucked up until they crashed together.  A moan escaped his chest, the archangel nodded encouraging and ground down, setting a pace of their pelvis’ rutting together.

“I know,” Sam keened and then demanded, “Snap off your clothes.  Need to feel you-”

With a groan, Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if he was throwing a wrench in the machine.  From what he saw, Sam hadn’t even _tried_ to bed their ‘fake siren,’ despite the fact she had thrown herself at him.  He made excuses each and every time, growing in creativity, and it wasn’t even the ‘hard to get’ approach.  Hell, if the situation had been reversed, if Gabriel was as horny as Sam was right now (because he was downright demanding and hungry) why _wouldn’t_ he have bedded the woman?  Hell, just to use her and get some release.  It would have gone along with the plan, it would have pulled them into a deeper connection, it would have-

That’s when Gabriel realized that Sam may only crave _him_.

And the archangel didn’t know whether to be flattered, concerned or delighted, because this man underneath him?  Was a gorgeous piece of human.  The way he was still clawing at Gabriel’s clothes, the lust heavy in his eyes, even though part of him hated Gabriel (yet admitted he was going to ignore, for now) it was such a borderline insane situation.

Gabriel helped out in the end and made his clothes vanish, if only for the fact Sam was going to tear them into scrapes.

“Fuck yes,” the hunter gasped out, now that they were skin to skin.

Except, in that moment of relief, he did something that shocked the hell out of Gabriel.    
  
Maybe Sam wasn’t thinking, maybe he was just moving - but he surged up and captured Gabriel's lips in a mind-blowing kiss.    
  
It was too delicious for Gabriel to stop - even though it was _wrong_ , even though they were crossing a boundary that wasn’t meant to be crossed, even though this _never_ should have happened-

It felt amazing, and now that the dam broke?  Gabriel said fuck it and eagerly licked into Sam’s mouth.  As their tongues brushed, he fisted their cocks and earned not just wanton sounds from the man but deep, needy kisses that told a totally different story.  It was a push and pull tug of war, and wrong never felt so right.

Gabriel was damn good at multitasking, and once he moved around to straddle the beautiful human underneath him, he was determined to manage three things.  He would continue the lazy rhythm, pumping their cock together now slick from both their oozing precum.  He would stretch Sam’s tight hole open with his fingers, making room for his cock.  And, finally...he was going to kiss the fuck out of him until he was stopped.

With a sharp inhale the second the archangel dove in with two fingers, Sam’s arms flew up and cupped Gabriel’s cheeks.  He…didn’t pull away, he kissed him.  _Harder_.

The intimacy of this encounter was unparalleled.

How the hell they wound up here was baffling to Gabriel, but as he pushed and pulled, he couldn’t help but tease, “You like that, Sammy?”

With an arched back, powering against the assault on his opening and his cock, he grunted out, “Way too much-”

“Already getting close?”  Gabriel couldn’t stop himself from taunting Sam even if he wanted to.  “Do you want me to stop?  Tell me what you want.  You’ve been so good, such a lovely little siren, an amazing addition to my bed at night.  So ask and you shall receive.  Or I’ll continue taking you apart.”

With blown wide pupils, Sam stared Gabriel down with his chest heaving - but there was a momentary stumble - and he tried to recover by flashing a grin, “Get me ready for you cock.  Now.”

“Mm, pushy,” he noted, and pulled away from their erections to balance his weight on Sam’s hip.

He was practically salivating to mark him, to leave the barest reminder of their time together but he...couldn’t!  Well, he could and heal it but then Tricksters didn’t exactly have healing powers.  It would be another possible nail in the coffin to reveal what he really was.  It was so damn frustrating, but then he thought back to Sam’s momentarily lapse, while he twisted in a third finger.

It had to be because Gabriel called him a siren and his duty tonight had ended in failure.  All he wanted was this, right here, and Gabriel wondered if it was time to back off?  Who was he kidding, he’d never deprive himself of this, not in a million years.

Not with the way Sam’s toes were curling, the way he was spreading his legs - not as an invitation but to spur him forward - and then the command of, “Kiss me,” all over again.

Who was Gabriel to deny either of them?

He was getting impatient.  So fucking impatient, as their lips clashed.  Maybe he used a little grace when he added a fourth finger this go-around, but Sam was so caught up in the throes of sensation and passion he wouldn’t know what was happening.  He needed to fuck him, he needed to be inside him now, and this whole new element - even if it was something as simple as making out, just took it to an entirely different level.

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Sam chanted into Gabriel’s mouth, rolling his form from chest to thighs, all allure and blatant sexuality that left his mouth dry.  “Get inside me.”

“Hell yeah,” Gabriel almost growled, pulling his fingers out and instantly replacing them with his cock.

He didn’t think twice about sinking into Sam’s body.  Shit, he didn’t think twice about how much more intimate it was to fuck him face to face.  But when he bottomed out and their eyes were locked, something…happened.

They were both flushed, utterly consumed by need, but this - connection…it just _happened_.    
  
This moment in time where they were completely one, this energy rushed and there was a second where neither could tell where one of them stopped and the other began.  It wasn’t carnal or violent, there wasn’t a need to fuck like their lives depended on it, it was...more - and to be honest?  It scared the crap out of Gabriel.

Still, there was no going back.  He’d made the choice to fuck Sam like this, and so he started rocking his hips.

The hunter was watching his every move, feeling the same thing but it looked like he was allowing “it” to sink in.  He wasn’t running.  Even so, he bucked his hips off the bed to slam into each one of Gabriel’s thrusts, the brutality and desire still there in spades.  He was doing just as much work, needing it just as badly and when his arms flew up they were greedy and not taking no for an answer, daring to take advance of their proximity.

Yeah, Gabriel _could_ have fought him because the intimacy was just too much, but Sam’s jaw was set with this intensity when he hauled him back and kissed the fuck out of him.  Every thrust knocked the wind out of Sam, but he fought harder when he kissed him, and did the one fucking thing Gabriel wished he could do.

He sucked on his neck until it was an angry red.  He nipped at his jaw line and left those claims that the archangel _wanted_ so goddamn badly-

Sam was all unapologetic brute force.  He was brash, fearless; he didn’t care who he was messing with and he took what he wanted as his ass was relentlessly pounded.  Gabriel could feel both of them were close, it was the energy in the air, the rush of blood pumping under their skin, and that was when he was caught off guard once more-

“Tell me what to call you,” Sam ordered, “Your name.  W-wanna scream your name-”

Before he knew what he was doing, he blurted out, “Gabriel,” and was blowing his load inside Sam’s abused and beautifully clenched hole.

“Fuck, Gabriel!  Feels amazing, your cock, _perfect-_ ” he babbled desperately, and shot cum between both their bodies, still moaning _his name_ on repeat.

But…Gabriel could only enjoy the afterglow for two seconds, because the motherfucking endorphins had made him drunk on Sam, and when he _should have said Loki_ …he said _Gabriel_.  

What the actual fuck?!  How had he-

He was too baffled by his own idiocy to realize Sam had pulled him up on his chest and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  He was also running his hand through Gabriel’s hair and humming happily.

“Seriously.  Best sex of my life.”  With a thoughtful pause, he casually mentioned, “After I complete your bullshit mission, we should keep this up.”

That-

Okay.

That may be the _only_ thing that could have turned the tables and changed the direction of Gabriel’s thought process.

“Heh,” he sneered and rolled onto his side, eyeing the hunter.  “So you can stake me once you’ve got what you want?  Is that it?  It’d be pretty easy to do during pillow talk.”

All of Sam froze and his eyes doubled in size.  “Uh, no.  I was being serious.  What the hell…I guess that’s a negative.”  He made a move to leave the bed, grumbling out, “I’m taking a shower,” just as the archangel realized his mistake.  Again.

So he lashed out and grabbed Sam’s wrist as he sat up.  “Hey, I didn’t mean that.  It was a dick thing to say.”  Something flicked across his eyes and he schooled his features. With a quirked, confident smile he said, “We’ll see about this mission.  You were a snake and used your sexual deviancy against me, Winchester.  Now, this can go one of two ways.”

In silence, Sam waited for the orders.

“I can dig into that head of yours and wipe my name from your memory banks because that name holds too much power.  Or, we make a blood pact that you never tell anyone.  What’s it going to be?”  For the first time in a long time, there wasn’t a single fleck of amusement in Gabriel’s tone, this was serious and Sam understood the ramifications.

But he didn’t like the accusation.

“I didn’t do it to have one up on you,” he spat and growled something fierce.  “Sorry, if shouting out “Trickster” when I’m cumming just doesn’t have much appeal.  I wasn’t going to use it against you, that wasn’t my intention at all…I just thought maybe we were…past that.”  Ruefully, he scoffed, “Keep forgetting I’m just another game to you.”

Before Sam reached the bathroom, Gabriel’s ground teeth and called out, “I won’t mind-whammy you.”

“How _kind_ ,” Sam retorted back, leaning on the doorframe.  “Glad to know-”

“I liked it,” he said flippantly, laying back onto the bed still completely naked.  “It sounded beautiful coming from your lips.  I plan on hearing you scream it much more in the future.”

Finally, the tension in Sam’s back melted and he seemed appeased.  That didn’t stop him from quipping, “We’ll have to see.  Days are running out, and you don’t seem to want to stick around afterwards.  Although, I might be willing to accommodate, _Gabriel_ ,” the way his name sounded on Sam’s tongue was almost enough for the archangel to jump in the shower with him for round two.

“Gotta be careful what you wish for, Sammy.”  He winked boldly and let his eyes gaze over every inch of his naked skin.  “Fuck, you’re a vision.”

Sam deliberately gave him the best view of his ass before he finally went to shower.  Leaving the door open.  But Gabriel wouldn’t take that invitation. No, playing this hard to get thing was becoming more and more difficult.  The more time he spent with Sam, the more time he couldn’t imagine _not_ spending it with him.

The worst fucking part was the deal.

Gabriel had no idea if he’d be able to pull off the task - which meant Gabriel couldn’t give him back his brother, and Sam would hate him forever.  This would be gone.

Or, Sam _would_ get the job done, Dean would be back in his life, and Gabriel would be another monster, because Dean Winchester only saw black and white, while Sam’s vision was in grays.  He’d lose Sam again.

There wasn’t a single bright outcome.  Still, Gabriel didn’t have a problem enjoying the time they had together now.  Even though Sam seemed to think there was hope for _something_ after this, that was his dreamer side coming back…which was actually encouraging.  To think, Gabriel was melting that horrible wall _he’d_ forced Sam to build.

With a snap of his fingers, the bed was clean and he was in his boxers.

In a matter of twenty minutes, the lights were off and Sam fucking Winchester was curled up on his chest, sound asleep like he wasn’t sharing a room with the monster who’d killed his brother.  He was so sure he was on track to get him back, he’d even lowered his guard around Gabriel - who, technically, at any time could decide he was a nuisance and end him, right here and now.

Luckily for the kid, that was the last thing he wanted.

Quite the opposite.  Gabriel was too busy memorizing every little detail.  Because, come three days from now, this would be a distant memory, one way or another.


	6. Commit (Unconditionally) To Your Strategy

It looked like Sam canvassing Eliza’s couldn’t have come at a better time, because when day five rolled around, the text he received was to invite him over for pizza and a movie.  At her place.

Which was…surprising.  Given the fact that she had enough occult objects, books and spell ingredients to fill a friggin _storage unit_.  It made Sam wonder, did she have a place to stow all of her obsession with the supernatural?  Or was she going to make her interests known, convinced that Sam was just that into her?

The two ways it could go were very, very different.  The difference between night and day - light and darkness, even.  But the one thing that remained the same was that him agreeing to go over there was almost a guarantee of him spending the night.  After all, the last time they’d put it off because they’d been ‘drunk’ and he wanted their first time together to be _special_ and to remember it.

Sam was running out of options to bullshit with.

It was a problem.  At the beginning, he could have hopped into bed with her - easy.  But…something had changed and he didn’t want to.

That something happened to be named Gabriel.

Yes.  He’d _actually_ gotten a fucking name from the Trickster last night, hell, he’d gotten a lot more than he’d bargained for.  Sam couldn’t help but wonder - what kind of a name was 'Gabriel'  to begin with?  It sure as hell wasn’t Pagan, as they thought.  He figured it was a name that he’d been going by on Earth for so long, he didn’t respond to his demi-God name anymore.  Which, as Sam had said the previous night, would have been just as awkward shouting out in bed.

But “Gabriel.”  That…had a nice ring to it.  If felt good on his tongue, just as the Trickster’s had felt on his.    
  
Fuck, he couldn’t believe that he’d kissed him!  It took everything to a whole new level, but it had been so intense, so amazing and…

Goddammit.  Sam had _actually_ cuddled him.  
  
He was on autopilot, still drunk off his mind-boggling orgasm and after his shower all he wanted to do was collapse on top of Gabriel and stay there all night.  And that's what he did.

What the actual hell was going on?

It was baffling; things were getting out of control and Sam had no idea what to do.  All right - there was one thing he _could_ do.  He could set up his game plan for tonight.  That was productive. Plus, it wouldn’t mess with him in the meantime.  So that’s exactly what he focused on.  A very carefully, thought-out, well-constructed plan.  He had to shove thoughts of Gabri- “The Trickster” aside.

\---------------------------

“Eddie!  Did you find the place all right?” Eliza greeted at the door with a huge smile, welcoming him inside.

She was a bit more dressed down than usual, wearing a pair of jeans, tank top (with no bra, which figured) and a nicer hoodie.  Her blonde locks had been pulled back into low pigtails but her face was just as done up as ever.  She took pride in her appearance.

Sam had done much of the same, he aimed for casual.  Well, minus the no underwear thing, of course.  He wasn’t one to free-ball it.

“Yeah, wow, this is a nice apartment complex,” he said with that wide-eyed excitement and glanced around the living room as he hung his jacket up.  “I can’t wait to see the rest!  Are you going to give me the grand tour?”

This was where he baited her to see just what number her creep-factor was set on.

With a smile, she grabbed his hand and tugged.  “Of course!  I already ordered the pizza and I’ve got Netflix queued up, so we’ve got a little time to waste,” she winked and led the way.

Room by room, she would announce the most mundane things - like about how her and a girlfriend got into a fight over what color to paint the walls, how she was determined to read every book on this shelf in the office but hadn’t gotten around to it, and then the innuendos she made about the bedroom?  Were subtle enough not to sound desperate, but…she was obviously desperate.

What grabbed Sam’s attention about the tour, however, was that _everything was gone_.

She’d hidden all of her collection away somewhere, sprayed floral scents to cover up the sage and other herbs, because this looked like the apartment of a young professional.  Not a horrible serial killer.  But…where?  There was so much of it!  Sam had previously checked her closet - that was already filled to the brim - and there wasn’t room to tuck everything away there…

“Eddie?” Eliza was flirtatious and rubbed his back, thinking his focus was on the bed, or something.  “No drinking tonight.  I want to remember everything…” she deliberately drew the words out and wrapped her arm around his hip, pulling him around and into a kiss.

Sam went with it, but kept it decently chaste as he tenderly cupped her cheeks.  When he pulled away, he agreed with her and said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.   _Great_ idea.  Tonight’s gonna be perfect,” gazing ‘longingly’ into her eyes.

She playfully bit her lip, but before she could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“Pizza!” she proclaimed with glee and darted away.

Taking one more second to look around, Sam was still baffled.  He’d figure it out though, he was determined.  He’d just been here only yesterday!  There was no way she’d shipped it out somewhere, there was no goddamn time.  No, her collection was too meaningful, she’d want to keep it close at hand.  All her shit was here, he just needed to locate it.  After all, it was critical to his plan.

\----------------------

It was long after they finished the pizza and were snuggled up on the couch when the next part of Sam’s strategy fell into action.

His phone started ringing.

At first, he ignored it, which made Eliza ask, “Shouldn’t you get that?”

Sam shook his head with a smile and kissed her cheek, “I’m here with you, baby.  I don’t need to talk to anyone else.  They can wait.”

That made her preen and nestle closer.  Until the second or third time the call was sent to voicemail.  At that point, the woman turned to Sam, not in annoyance but in concern and said, “What if it’s an emergency?  Shouldn’t you at least check to see who it is?”

“Okay, you’re right,” Sam nodded and reached out to grab the phone.  He scrunched his brow in confusion at the unknown number, but picked it up anyway.  “Hello?  Who is this?”

Ruby was on the other end, exactly as they had planned out in advance.

“Eddie, you can’t ignore me forever!”  She nearly shouted into the phone to make sure their target could hear.

“How did you get this number?” he demanded, “I told you, _we’re done_.  You need to leave me alone, I-” Sam cast his eyes over to Eliza for a brief second before he ordered her, “I have someone.  Someone I care about and I don't want _or_ have to talk to you.  You need to move on, you already ruined enough of my life.”

“You’re only lying to yourself,” Ruby snapped right back, “That other little blonde?   _Please_!  You know she’ll never be as good to you as I was, she-”

“She’s better than you!  In every way!  She’s smart, she isn’t conniving or manipulative like you were!  She’d never trick me or deceive me into thinking she’s something she wasn’t!  She’s a genuine, sweet woman and I…think I love her.”  Sam felt Eliza’s hand fall to his thigh and squeeze at the admission.  “Never call my number again!”  And with that, he hung up.

Yes.  He described Ruby in the _exact_ terms he’d use to describe what Eliza was hiding under her surface with her siren act.  To start planting the seeds of self-doubt and self-hatred.

He turned to her and said, “Eliza, I am so, _so_ sorry that she-”

But the woman shut him up with a passionate kiss.  He acted accordingly - caught off guard, but then eagerly responding to it.  Sam cupped her cheek and pretended he wasn’t disgusted by the woman licking inside his mouth.  He imagined someone else entirely.

When Eliza pulled away, her eyes were glimmering when she whispered, “Did…did you mean it?”

Sam kept his palm right where it was but tilted his head, “Mean what?”

“That you think you love me.”  She sounded nervous and so damn hopeful, Sam had her right where he wanted her.

“I-I know it’s soon,” he fumbled over his words, trying to make himself appear anxious in front of the pretty girl and caught from the conversation, “But…I’ve never felt this way about anyone.  And I really think it could be love.  God, I’m probably scaring you, aren’t I?  It’s happening too quick, isn’t it?  I-”

“No, Eddie!”  She jumped over into his lap with nothing but pure adoration, “I thought I might be alone in it but…I love you, too.  I don’t know what I did to deserve you, I don’t know what the chances were that we met, but I’ve never been this happy with someone.  It’s like it's destiny, or something!”

“Heh,” Sam shook his head with a laugh that was real, “I think we make our own destinies.  But thank God I didn’t push you away…I thought-”

“Oh, _quite_ the opposite,” she raised a mischievous eyebrow, “It makes me want you so much more…what do you say we celebrate?  Cut the movie short?  Have some time alone?”

“That sounds perfect,” Sam forced out of his mouth, even though his stomach may have dropped.

Eliza all but purred, “Good.  I’m just gonna freshen up in the powder room, and then I’m coming for you.”

When she hopped off him and swung her hips towards the hallway, Sam waited.  As soon as he heard the door click shut, he rushed to the bedroom with silent feet as quickly as he could and began tearing through her belongings.

He needed to find _something_!  He needed something incriminating, something that would scare any normal guy away, since Sam was that ‘normal guy.’  He couldn’t leave without a motive, and as he searched for that motive, he finally hit pay dirt.  Under her bed.

It was the small collection of weapons, only hidden by a silk sheet.  As quickly as he could, he spread them out on the bed, ready for the reveal.  It didn’t take long, no, not at all.

“Eddie?”  Her voice was coated in seduction from behind, Sam’s large figure covering the evidence he’d just found - she didn’t know, not yet.

When he turned around, she was only clad in a lacy bra and panties, but his alarm read loud and clear.  She shot forward with concern, “Are you okay?  What’s wrong?”

“Eliza…what’s this?  Why the _hell_ would you have-” he pitched his voice to panicky, “I-I was taking off my belt because, you know, and it fell…I probably shouldn’t have, but I saw something glimmer under your bed and then I found...  Why do you have these?”  His voice escalated with every sentence and he backed away from her.  “This _isn’t_ normal - is this devil worship?  Hardcore satanism or-”

“No, no, no, Eddie!” she tried to soothe him, desperately trying to figure out a reason, as her eyes darted between the pile of weaponry and her ‘boyfriend.’  “They’re collectors items!  I-I thought it would be weird if they _weren’t_ hidden, I-”

“These are real!  These blades cut, those guns fire!”  Sam wouldn’t be talked down, “T-there’s blood on the hilt of that knife!   _Why_ is there blood?”  His voice dropped just shy of his whisper as he pointed to one of the silver blades.  “Please.  Is there something you need to tell me?  God,” Sam wiped his hands down his face, cursing to himself, “I _knew_ this was too good to be true-”

“Dammit, Eddie!  We’re real, okay?!  It’s _not_ too good to be true, we found each other and the love I feel for you is real!  And I’m gonna fight for it!”  She made a move for the bed, that had Sam jumping backwards in fear.

“Don’t hurt me, I-!”

She froze, disbelief in her eyes, as she blurted out, “No!  No, I’d _never_ , oh my God!  I’m putting these away, all right!?  I’d never hurt you!”

Sam kept the tension strong through his body, watching her hide all the artillery he’d brought out with care, one by one.  “You still haven’t given me any answers.  Not a single one.  I can’t be with someone who-!”

“Okay!  Fine!”  She half-shouted when everything was gone, throwing her arms in the air, “They’re for protection!”

“A concealed weapons permit wouldn’t do it?” Sam countered right back.

There were tears in her eyes.  Sam didn’t know if they were crocodile tears or real ones, when she fought to explain, “I meant it when I said some were collectors items, okay?  I-I was attacked once…I can’t talk about it, not yet, but maybe one day,” she sniffed, her nose running.  “And after that, I knew I had to defend myself, but I didn’t want to risk _killing_ someone.  God, I didn’t want to kill _anyone_.  Which is why I don’t have a real gun.  The shotgun is filled with rock salt, it’d knock someone on their ass, leaving me time to get away.”

She began wiping away the tears, “Same with the knives.  Started with one a friend gave me, just a random one that had weird etchings.  But I slept easier with it by my bed because I was scared.  Then I wanted to get a better one, because it just looked so old, you know?”

“So you got, what, _five_ more?”  Sam could see how someone would buy the story, she was a damn good actress and it made sense.

“For different rooms in the apartment, yeah.”

“And you picked the creepiest ones you could find?” he countered, watching her deflate in front of him.

“I liked them because they were different.  And it’s not like people knife shop because they’re afraid of the dark.  Like I am.”  She crossed her arms, covering herself when she pathetically said, “People don’t sleep with a nightlight.  Like I do.  They get the concealed weapons permit, like you said.  But I…felt more comfortable with the knives.  The blood on that one?  Was mine.  Didn’t realize quite how sharp it was,” she lied, and Sam knew it.

She had been working blood magic.

But it was time for “Eddie” to feel a hint of sympathy.

“I’m sorry.  That something happened to you.  It,” he looked for the right words, “must have been terrible.  Getting attacked, whatever it was.  I just-” Sam scoffed with a gesture towards the floor, “Seeing that?  Freaked me out.  I thought, I don’t know, it was Satanic ritual sacrifice, or something.  I just had a crazy ex before, I thought crazy might follow me…even though it’s a little weird that you picked those knives out…”

When he trailed off, Eliza urged him, “I swear, I’m nothing like your crazy ex!  It’s PTSD, I-I should have told you, and I know they’re a little out there, but I like that they’re unique,” she had a fond smile on her face, which _should_ have been another red flag.  “I’m so, so sorry.  I… God, this _wasn’t_ supposed to happen tonight!”

“It’s okay, PTSD is real,” Sam made the move to approach her because she was still froze in her tracks.  “Have you ever thought about therapy?  Anything that could help you with recovery?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, and reached out, hoping Sam would take her hand.  “That’s the only reason I can stash them now.  Like I said, I used to have one in every room.  Just in case.  I’m not quite there, but I’m working on it, every day.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you.  It takes a strong person to do that,” he said with a smile, finally pulling her into his arms during the dance of lies they were engaged in.  “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.  Please, tell me we’re okay?  That we can get through this?”  Then, her voice broke when she asked, “P-please…will you stay tonight?”

Sam could feel her trembling within his arms, and he hugged her tighter.  “Yeah.  Okay, I…can do that.  How about you take a shower?  Calm down a little?”

“I’m fine, I think we should just go to sleep,” she smiled sadly when she added, “Wow.  Way to ruin the mood, huh?”

“It’s all right,” Sam promised, “We’ve got time.”

He knew damn well she didn’t want him finding anything else, which was why she had refused the shower.  Sam, ever the gentleman, turned his back while she pulled on her pajamas and stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, ready for bed.  

The night had gone exactly as planned.  From Ruby’s delivery of jealousy, to the first “I love you,” and then their first “fight.”  It was just a little blurry how much of Eliza’s true feelings were involved and how much of it was acting.  Sam knew he was one step ahead - but he wanted to know just how _far_ ahead.

Knowing that blades and firearms were just an arm’s reach away made falling asleep with Eliza easier, even though she was a threat.

After all, he had a longer reach than she did.

\---------------------

The diner wasn’t anything fancy, but it was exactly what Sam and Ruby needed to chat about everything that happened the night before.  He didn’t know why, but he felt he needed to keep her informed about the situation and the status of his mission because of her help.  But…the _real_ status.

Ruby knew more than Gabriel.  She knew what really happened _and_ what didn’t, what he hadn’t pulled the trigger on.  As far as Sam knew, hopefully the Trickster wasn’t aware of Ruby’s continued involvement.  He didn’t seem very keen on the idea, whatsoever.

But…why did Sam care so much?

Obviously, Gabriel hated the thought of him being even connected to Ruby, he’d gotten downright possessive and maybe…well, Sam liked that part of it.  Maybe that was why he didn’t want to upset the man further?  He had no goddamn idea these days.

Even though it was breakfast, Ruby had a plate of French fries and a mound of ketchup on her plate as she listened to Sam recount the story.

Sam was finishing up with his omelet when the demon posed a statement he hadn’t been expecting.

“I just don’t get it.  When you talk about this Trickster, it’s like he’s your partner in the hunt or something.  Not the guy who, you know, _killed your brother_ and is holding his rebirth hostage.”  She snorted, dragging a few fries through the sauce when she added, “I don’t know how you can even stand to talk to him.  Let alone be in the same room with him.  He’s just as bad as Lilith.”

For some reason, that mere comparison made Sam jerk back and vehemently deny, “Fuck no, he’s nothing like her!”

Ruby froze by the way he’s responded and gaped.  “Uh,  Dean’s dead.  How is that _any_ different?”

That was the question.

Fuck.  Sam had no idea, because...she was right.  She was absolutely right, and whatever Sam was doing was fucked up, wasn’t it?   Why _-_

“Woah,” the woman’s eyes suddenly doubled in size when she hissed out, “Is there a case of Stockholm Syndrome going on here?!  Sammy, there’s no way in hell-”

“No!” he said it too quickly, because Ruby’s expression transformed into a look of revelation, but there was no turning back now.  “It’s…I don’t know what it is, all right?  It’s complicated because we have a history.  He’s not just a demon who killed Dean, he’s-” Sam groaned and buried his face in his palms because nothing could justify what was happening.

Nothing.

“Are you two…?” Ruby carefully alluded, watching Sam’s every move like a hawk.

His silence was confirmation, because he couldn’t lie.

“What are you thinking?!  Sam, I can't _…_ ” Ruby took in a breath and pushed her food away, baffled by the situation as it sunk in.  “You know that no matter how good the sex is, you won’t be able to win him over and get Dean back that way, right?  It’s all about closing the deal on this chick.  So if-”

“That’s the problem,” Sam’s voice was barely more than a hushed whisper.  “It’s wasn’t a play, it wasn’t a move.  It started off as what he called hate sex and then just turned into sex.  The first time we hunted him, I wouldn’t have cared if we let him off.  I didn’t blame him for doing what he was doing.  And the only way I can explain it, is I’m confident I’m going to get Dean back.  So I block out the fact that he killed him.  And I just think about the Trickster who-”

“You totally wanted to fuck him before, didn’t you?” she interrupted and narrowed her eyes, “I can’t even believe this!  This hunt?  You chasing him down, after all this time?  It really did change you.  You’re being used, you’re-”

“Using _each other_ ,” he snapped right back, because she didn’t understand what was happening, that there were so many layers to this puzzle than what it looked like on the surface.  “And maybe it’s not even about being used.  Maybe-”

“Hah!”  Ruby barked out a laugh and sneered, “Don’t you dare fuckin' say you have feelings for him.  Because even you’re not that much of a goddamn moron to think he’d give a shit about you.”

Those words, almost coated in venom, shook Sam.

No, he didn’t think he had feelings, but once he was confronted by the concept that maybe it was a possibility…

Maybe, he did.    
  
Hell, he’d outright _asked_ Gabriel if (maybe) their little charade could continue after he got his brother back.  Why the fuck would he do that if he _didn’t_?  Obviously, in that moment at least, he wanted him to stay in his life beyond this stupid case and test.  There had to be something more if he- 

“Sam-”  Ruby abruptly reached out and grabbed his wrist.  “Holy hell, you have got to be joking.  Listen to me.  You are in over your head.  You need to pull back on all of this shit.  It’s not a matter of getting hurt, it’s a matter of getting _dead_.”   Even when Sam tugged free of her grasp, she sighed and emphasized, “Tricksters are powerful.  They bend realities, they dish out karma and their number one joy is _fucking with people_.  You’re getting fucked, seven ways ‘til Sunday.  You’ve gotta realize that.”

Sam couldn’t listen to this anymore.  Because he knew a lot of it was probably true.  Even though Ruby was all but demanding a response, he reached for his wallet and tossed a twenty on the table to pay for their meal, because suddenly the urge to get back to the motel was overwhelming.

He had something that he needed to do.

“I’ll let you know how it goes with Eliza.”  He kept his voice even and cool as he stood up.  “Thanks for the help, again.”

“Sam!  I don’t care what the fuck happens with Eliza, I care about what happens to you, dammit!” Ruby protested, but knew better than to hound him and follow him.  “Think about what I said.  Don’t be an idiot.”

“Okay.”

That was all Sam could offer her as he pulled on his light jacket and walked into the California heat.  He had a pair of sunglasses tucked away inside the chest pocket of his jacket and pulled them out.  Once again, he decided on a walk rather than cab it.

Even though he wanted to get to the motel right away, he still needed to collect his thoughts because they were spinning and tumbling around in his head.  Ruby’s words hadn’t just sparked light bulbs to go off, they’d sparked emotion and feelings.  Ones that he hadn’t realized were there until the words were out in the open.

And it was decently terrifying.

All too soon, he was at the front door and he let himself in.

He was worked up, ready, and only got _one shot_ at this.  In the last leg of the trek, he decided he knew what he had to do.

Gabriel was perched at the table, looking through some tabloid magazine, and before he could even get out his normal greeting, Sam was right there in his personal space.  He didn’t look alarmed until the paper was snatched out of his hands and slammed on the table.  Then, Sam had two fistfuls of his shirt, hauling him up from his seat.

And kissing him with a fiery passion to see what the hell would happen.

To see if Gabriel would respond, if he would push him away, if Sam would _feel anything._   
  
Because a kiss outside of sex was completely different.  Worlds different.

Even though there was a muffled noise of surprise, Gabriel eventually returned the kiss the same way; grabbing Sam’s hips and licking into his mouth.    
  
The intention behind it...was, startlingly, the exact same.  It wasn’t an immediate groping session to fuck the other.  They just kissed for the sake of kissing, and it lasted much, much longer than Sam had even thought possible.

Yeah, eventually Gabriel rolled them to the nearest bed, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that the Trickster hadn’t been afraid to receive that blatant (albeit fierce) show of affection as a _greeting_ , slow things down after the initial assault, and simply make out for a while.  It wasn’t about him getting off, and that was just it.

But the other part, the part that had Sam worried?  It was confirmation...and much worse happened.

It was a cold, hard fact now, more than a musing.

Kissing Gabriel like that?  The reaction, and what followed?

He wanted it so bad.  He _never_ wanted it to end and Sam couldn’t deny it anymore.

Yes.  He had undeniable feelings for this Trickster son of a bitch.  Maybe Ruby was right about one thing, that he was in over his head.     
  
This was stupidest thing he’d done to date.  But Sam couldn’t lie about _how right_ it felt, how he didn’t feel alone in it either, and if he really was being played?  He’d let himself indulge, because just experiencing something like this again, an emotion that wasn’t filled with hate and fueled by revenge...was something amazing.

He’d ride it out as long as he was allowed to, and maybe it was something he’d _fight for_ next.


	7. Don't Give Into Distractions (...Or Try Not To)

Due to all of the... _happenings_ , the god-awful drama and how friggin eventful staying the night at Eliza’s had been (sleeping with one eye open was an understatement) and _then_ knowing that he was going to have to do it all over again...well, a nap was sounding extremely appealing.

Especially, because he was curled up on Gabriel’s chest after a random, impromptu ‘attack,’ as the Trickster had called it.  The one that had occurred from the moment Sam walked through the door.    
  
Sam didn’t regret it for a second (even though he had complicated things further) because in this exact moment he was strangely happy.  If he blocked out everything else and chalked it up to white noise, if he could just clip this little section out in time: he was _damn_ happy.

“So what inspired that?” Gabriel asked in an uncharacteristically calm way, gently carding his fingers through Sam’s hair in that made him contently sigh.  “Not complaining.  Just curious.  ‘Cause I know _I_ had nothing to do with it.  Still, I’d like to know what I could do to inspire you in the future.”

Sam lightly laughed, his body melting against the other man’s, sated beyond belief and loose-lipped.  “I wanted you and thought that maybe…it shouldn’t be a matter of pissing each other off and provoking until we snapped.  I hoped we didn’t have to keep playing games anymore.  That if I wanted to kiss you, I could.  Then, if you wanted to take things further, you could, too.”

There was a small silence that extended between them, but it was thoughtful one.  It didn’t hold tension or weight.  Gabriel was simply taking in Sam’s words and letting them sink in.  Even though Sam hadn’t meant to be so bold, he found his filter gone when he was around Gabriel.  He was himself, and even though with his latest discovery, yeah - he really did have more to lose.  At the same time, if he didn’t put himself out there, if he kept everything internalized, there was no chance he’d be rewarded either.

It was a double-edged sword.

“All right,” Gabriel finally came to the conclusion.  “Know _I_ enjoyed myself.  Even though angry sex is fun, that spontaneous sex was just as awesome.”

Sam was downright surprised when the Trickster actually lowered his chin and pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head in a rare show of affection.  So he decided to summarize, “New rule is if we wanna take, we take?”

“If you want to call it that.”  
  
Sam glanced up to see a smirk flashed back at him and couldn’t help it.

He had to kiss him again.

Sam crawled up over Gabriel’s body until he was hovering above him and announced, “I’m going to be taking right now, I think,” as he sucked a mark right along the Trickster’s pulse point.

“Mm, I like this side of you.  The side that doesn’t loathe me,” Gabriel hummed appreciatively, his voice verging on husky again.  “Be careful.  I have a very, very short refractory time.  You could be lookin’ at round two in five minutes if you keep that up.”

“Damn, I’m impressed,” he teased, and then placed a single kiss on his lips.  “I’m a little more human.  I think I need to get a nap in, but after?  I wouldn’t be opposed to that round two.”

As he descended upon his lips again, Gabriel’s hands wandered and caressed up and down Sam’s sides.  It was night and day from where they’d started.  The languid way they were making out in the afterglow, it was something that honest lovers shared.  Not…the actual circumstances that Sam refused to think about.  He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

He couldn’t help but think - these tender kisses?  It wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome.  Ruby was all wrong about it, there _had_ to be something here.  Maybe there wasn’t at first, but right now, what was unfolding and building up right before Sam’s eyes was a big-fat-something.

Even though neither would say it aloud.

They both kissed until their jaws were sore, and Sam scooted back down until he was against Gabriel’s chest again.

He didn’t bother to act timid when he asked, “How much would it put you out if I slept like this for a little bit?  Do you have things to do, people to punish?”

With drawn-out sigh, Gabriel came to the conclusion of, “Well, there was a promise of a round two when you wake up…so I suppose I could snuggle your ass until then.”

“I think you like it,” Sam countered with a grin of his own.  “I’ve found what lore books don’t know.  A Trickster’s weakness is cuddling.”

“Shit!  Alert the hunters!”  He cackled and shook his head, “You’re a sassy little fuck, aren’t you?”

“You’d think you’d already know that.”

“Oh, I do.  Now, get to sleep Samsquatch,” Gabriel’s voice was soothing, “You’ve been working that fine tail off.  You deserve it.”

“Mm,” was all Sam could manage, because he was already beginning to drift off.  Completely at peace and still glowing.

\----------------------

If someone would have told Gabriel that Sam Winchester would be dozing off for a mid-afternoon cuddle session with him one day, he would have laughed in their face and found some kind of suitable punishment for such bullshit.  Yet, here it was, happening right before his eyes.

When the kid had busted into the motel room, guns blazing, and instigated a racy turned sensual make-out session - who was Gabriel to complain?    
  
But here’s the thing: it wasn’t sex that Sam had been after, and Gabriel had blissfully ignored that fact.  He _knew_ that it was some kind of test - whether or not he’d passed or failed had yet to be seen.  What was happening right now was completely, utterly and totally unacceptable.

But he couldn’t find a reason to give a shit.

He was just fine and dandy with the progression of what’s developed.  After all, sharing a space with someone who wanted to murder you wasn’t as fun as one may think.  Someone who constantly wanted to jump your bones instead of the mark they should be jumping?  Who happened to be one of the most gorgeous pieces of Dad's creation on the planet, a damn near perfect human, and one who even mentioned some kind of (nonexistent, mind you) future?

Yeah, _that_ was an upgrade.

Until a whine escaped Sam’s throat.

And not a sexy one.

It was a pained noise and his body went tense.

Gabriel already had his arms wrapped around him and he tried to soothe the hunter, but he knew damn well he was having a nightmare.  Hoping it would pass, he resumed running his hand through Sam’s hair to relax him - he knew damn well the kid loved it - he could see it on his face and the way it released all the tension from his body the moment Gabriel made that move.

But after about five minutes, the distressed noises turned into gasping breaths and he was two seconds away from thrashing.  No, Sam needed this nap, and Gabriel wasn’t going to put him through this and let him suffer.  Not when one of his prime angel skills was hopping into dreams and imaginatively tweaking them.

It was easy as pie, it didn’t send out any beacons and he wanted to do this for the hunter.  Damn, did he have a soft spot for the kid...

Gabriel closed his eyes, reaching out with his grace, and sinking into Sam’s subconscious.  When he opened them again within Sam’s dreamscape, he found himself in a very, _very_ familiar location.  And, luckily he was still in his own little bubble, because he cursed obscenely loud.

Sam didn’t know he was here.  He was an invisible presence just watching the scene unfold, only it wasn’t simply one that Sam had already lived - it was one _Gabriel_ had created.  Handcrafted just for Sam-

The visions of watching Dean die.  Torture and tough love, under the guise of 'a lesson.'  Forcing Sam to lose his brother.  Over and over again.

Sam was surrounded by all the creative versions of his brother’s corpse.  A million shades of death that Gabriel himself had brought to life.  He was cradling the Dean who’d been hit by the car, covered in gore.  As far as the eye could see, there were other bloody, electrocuted, shot, gutted, infinite variations of every last Tuesday Sam had to go through on loop.

Gabriel’s heart broke in two, because Sam was openly sobbing, doubled over Dean’s body.  He held him clutched up against his chest, whispering, like a mantra, “ _back to Wednesday…just back to Wednesday…_ ” as the tears flowed freely down his wet cheeks.  Sam choked on the words, chest heaving while his eyes leaked like a faucet, clinging tighter to his brother and Gabriel-

Holy shit, he couldn’t do this.

He snapped his fingers to warp the dreamscape.

Something random, something that would make Sam _happy_.  He also may or may not have scrubbed those images from his mind because, yes, Gabriel was selfish.  He didn’t want a lingering nightmare to tarnish what they had right now.  Because it would.  Even though Gabriel deserved every last bit of that rage, he wasn’t willing to fuck things up when their time left was so finite.

Gabriel tossed Sam out to the Rocky Mountains for a hike at sunrise.  Something “pretty” and nature-y that he’d enjoy.  Gabriel made sure that there wasn’t a shock, that the transition was smooth and, just like that, Sam checked his gear, which included all the tools for rock climbing.  Which was what he headed to do.

With a sigh of relief, Gabriel slowly retreated from his consciousness and back into the grubby motel room.

He wasn’t as heartless as Sam probably thought, this lesson wasn’t to destroy him - it was to teach.  Sam needed to understand that letting go was the only thing he _could_ do, rather than the revenge that was written all the prophesies.  It almost, _almost_ made Gabriel consider sticking around.  If only to watch out for Sam, because he hadn’t taken the hint!  The nightmares and their current predicament was evidence of that.  Gabriel  _wanted_ to stay, hell, in a perfect world maybe given the chance...  
  
But it just wasn't in the cards.

Gabriel couldn’t help but watch the kid’s face, now graced with a happy smile instead of the pinched distress of a frown and a cold sweat, as he continued to sleep.  Sam…was special.  He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t.  But it had nothing to do with what the angels wanted him for - it had nothing to do with being a damn vessel.

Sam, the human, the soul that was housed within the vessel was special.

He found himself pulling the kid closer, breathing in his scent and sighing.  Sure, he’d broken him a bit, but Gabriel also knew damn well that he was coming back to himself.  It was ironically because of whatever the fuck kind of relationship they were creating.  If only the world wasn’t such a cold, hard bitch and they could-

No.  He needed to stop that train of thought right there!

He’d already fucked up enough.  He’d even given Sam his name, dammit!  Gone beyond the casual sex line.  And now, just curling up together for a casual nap, when Gabriel _should_ be working on his next serving of just desserts.  Fuckin’ a, he’d thrown in enough wrenches to break the goddamn fabric of the universe at this point.   
  
He was slipping, he could be falling, and none of that was all right.

Still...he couldn’t bring himself to care _enough_ to change it.  Fuck it, he was already screwed, go big or go home - right?  Oh, and Gabriel was a sucker for grandeur.

\-----------------------

When Sam woke up from his nap, his bleary eyes opened to see Gabriel at his table, papers still strewn across as he merrily cut out articles.  He continued to eye other magazines and circle things with a fat red pen, dog-earing the page and setting it into a nice stack.

That was around the time Sam sat up and cleared his throat, stretching out his sore muscles.  “Do I wanna know what you’re doing?”

With a cock sure grin, Gabriel announced, “I’m doing my own research.  So, no.  You probably don’t wanna know,” and winked.

How could he forget?  After all, he wasn’t going to stop being a Trickster, just because he was babysitting Sam these days.

He felt surprisingly well-rested, given the circumstances and hopped out of bed, announcing, “Gonna take a shower,” not bothering with clothes as he headed to the bathroom.

Sam didn’t even blink at the catcall that left Gabriel’s mouth.  If anything, it made him smirk and shake his head.  It was a strange kind of comfort they’d fallen into around each other.  There was no shame, no real secrets, and as Sam turned on the shower he couldn’t help but think just how sick he was of this forced situation, disguised as a game.

Because that’s just what it was now - almost a farce.  And for as much as the Trickster liked to play, Sam almost wondered…   
  
What if he could get away with _asking_ Gabriel to end it?     
  
Maybe, they’d come that far.  Maybe if he said he’d learned his lesson, he’d just get his brother back.

He could use Gabriel’s possessive nature against him, tell him he didn’t want to seduce this fake siren anymore, that he only wanted to seduce _Gabriel_ …because that actually happened to be the strange truth.  At the same time, he wouldn’t, he _couldn’t_ , risk fucking anything up.  Especially this late in the game, with all the hours (fuckin’ days) and work he’d put in.  Balancing the truth, trust and what Sam questioned to be real was blurred, too blurred to risk a bet on.

They’d made a deal: Sam had a sure-fire way to Dean.

Did he want to gamble on the unknown?  No matter how his relationship had transformed with the Trickster?  God, it was just so jumbled.  He hated it _because_ he’d come to care.

One thing was for sure.  No matter what happened, Eliza _would_ be dead by the end of the week.  
  
If his next move didn’t work, Sam was going to kill her and make it look like a suicide.  It would be easy with the things he’d found in her apartment, not to mention he had a demon on his side to help out with the breaking and entering part if normal means didn’t work. 

It was foolproof.

Yeah.  Maybe it would be best to just wait it out.  Sam sighed heavily as he rinsed his hair and cast a glance to the fogged shower door.  Then…a grin spread on his face as he got an idea.

There had been a time before that Sam had left the door open, hoping that would serve as an invitation.  This time, he’d shut and locked it out of force of habit, but he figured that would be nothing to keep out a Trickster.

Now, they had this new idea about _taking_ , right?

“Gabriel!” Sam called out, wincing as his voice echoed a bit too loudly in the shower stall.

Before he could call out again, there was a figure right outside the foggy shower stall.  Apparently, he hadn’t even bothered with the door and just…teleported in.

“Yes, dear Moose?” he asked casually, “May I help you.”

Sam decided it would be in his best interest and help his cause to open up the door where the spray wasn’t cascading down, giving Gabriel a complete, unobstructed view of his naked body.  There was nothing to be shy about anymore, he tilted his head to the side when he asked, “Do Tricksters shower?”

Biting his lip, it was very, very obvious when Gabriel’s gaze trekked up and down every inch of Sam that they darkened with lust.  He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, still openly gazing as Sam’s dick gave a twitch of interest at the intensity and want behind the other’s eyes.  The scrutiny and objectification was rousing, especially when Gabriel had just flexed his muscles and used his power to appear.  It was a reminder to Sam in those moments just how intense it felt to be desired by a demi-God, and the power he held in that same aspect. 

“Usually just snap myself clean.  But I’ve been known to partake on occasion.”  He finally looked up to meet Sam’s eyes, “Am I sensing an invitation?”

“Depends if this is an occasion that interests you,” Sam flashed him a downright devilish and enticing smile as he shut the door and went back into the shower, letting Gabriel simmer with the thought.

It took no time at all for the Trickster to pop into the shower, naked, and splaying his hands across Sam’s chest.  “You’re a tease, you know that?”

He surged up into a kiss that took Sam’s breath away, grabbing the back of his neck in a show of control and only gave the hunter enough time to say, “I just asked a few questions,” before he was slammed against the wall.

“Oh, and that flawless, wet body and,” he snuck a look down, “hard cock doesn’t add to the equation?”

When Gabriel wrapped a hand around his erection, Sam could feel that _yes_ , he was _most definitely_ hard in what felt like record time.  But Gabriel always seemed to have this affect on him, and he moaned into the touch.

“I-it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked and hard before,” Sam taunted, bucking against his hand and acting boldly to grab Gabriel’s cock in turn.  “Hell, you’ve probably seen it more than anyone has in years.”  Just because he knew that the Trickster had that possessive streak, he added, “Does that turn you on?”

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, nibbling on Sam’s collarbone.  “I want to cover you with the outline of my teeth.  From head to fuckin’ toe.  Leave my hand prints around your wrists.  Suck marks against your thighs.  Prove just who’s fucking you, making you scream at night, pumping you full of cum.”

“Oh, God,” Sam moaned out, feeling his knees growing weaker with each dirty phrase that left Gabriel’s mouth.  “Think you can fuck me in here?”

Amusement danced on his face as he eyed the stall, taking into account the size and whether or not it would work.  “Depends on how well you bend over for me, Sammy.”

The fire ignited in Sam’s stomach over the thought.  Yes, he liked this new understanding between them very much and flashed a cocky grin at Gabriel in consideration.  He already knew he’d riled up the Trickster, he could feel his dick pulsing and leaking precum in his hand, and it took no time for him to _take_.

Gabriel slapped Sam’s hand away, manhandled him by the hips until they were rutting together under the hot water and asked in a dangerous voice, “That was a question.  Think you can handle it?”

With a moan, Sam couldn’t help but grind into the friction, and as Gabriel’s fingers dug into his flesh he countered, “Why don’t we test it out?”

The Trickster didn’t waste anytime as he continued to use brute strength and swung Sam around to face the other side of the shower stall.  Although it wasn’t as large as what was ideal, Gabriel seemed to be waiting to shove him down right away.  Instead, he surprised the hell out of Sam, moving swiftly to his knees and spreading Sam’s ass cheeks.

The yelp that bounced off the shower walls may have been embarrassing, but the very last thing Sam had expected was Gabriel’s tongue teasing and swirling around his hole.    
  
He could hear a chuckle from behind him.  The Trickster taking his time and barely pushed in passed his rim, dipping inside him.  And Sam…didn’t know what to do, he froze up because he sensation was so unfamiliar and-

Gabriel used sheer power alone to spread his legs for easier access and taunted, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.  You’ve taken cock before, but you’ve _never_ been eaten out?”  With another flick, another brush of his tongue that earned Gabriel a whimper, he commented, “Such a shame.  So responsive…”

“I-I…never wanted it,” Sam confessed with his teeth clenched.

But when Gabriel surprised him and plunged his tongue in deeper and deeper, licking him wide open.  Okay - maybe Sam _was_ all right with this.  Maybe his trepidation had faded because he was arching his back to give the man better access, because the things Gabriel was doing?  Holy fuck-!

Sam’s hole was already used and loose from the last round and Gabriel took pleasure in seeing how deep he could lap inside him.  Just how loud Sam’s moans were becoming, and he couldn’t help but pull away just to ask, “Never wanted it, huh?  So I should stop?”

The sound of heavy breathing and an audible gulp gave him away, and it thrilled the Trickster.

Sam didn’t want him to stop, but he needed him to stop…

“I…could probably get off from that,” Sam confessed, “So, yeah.  You should stop.  If you want me to cum on your cock, that is.”

“Mm,” Gabriel purred, standing up and praising him, “Very good answer, Sammy.  We’ll return to this conversation later, though.”

For some reason, Sam was perfectly alright with that…despite being weirded out about it in the past.  How could he not want more with the way Gabriel felt inside him?  Jesus, he was addicted to the way he touched him; fingers, tongue, dick, all of it - it was amazing.

Once more, probably for the last time, Gabriel moved Sam into position and bent him in half.  But this was what the man had been waiting for.  He braced his forearms against the stall, anticipation making his chest seize.  God, he wanted this so fucking bad, he-

“Can you take it?  Just like this, right now?” Gabriel asked, the thickness of his cock head was already slick with conjured lube and circling his rim.  “Because I’m having a hell of a time holding back…”

With a grin the Trickster couldn’t see, Sam used the leverage he had against the wall and pushed backwards, impaling himself on Gabriel’s dick.  For once, it ripped a choked gasp from Gabriel’s throat before he thrust forward, cornering Sam again.  He slapped his hands on the shower wall to box Sam in on both sides.

With nothing but unbridled arousal in his voice, Gabriel choked out, “You little shit-” then laughed when he said, “you really are craving another good round, aren’t you?” and slowly began moving.

Sam didn’t have anywhere to go, but he really didn’t need to.  He’d spurred something animal-like inside the Trickster, who was now increasing the pace without warning and pistoning his hips forward as he kept Sam in place with one hand.  The other was still braced against the wall, only as support and leverage to fuck the words from Sam’s mouth and turn them into a series of curses and his name.

All Sam could do was hold steady, make sure his knees didn’t buckle and moan, “Goddammit, Gabriel, feels so good,” over and over, as the man took him for all he was worth.

“You love this, don’t you?” he asked, reaching around to grab Sam’s cock, “You’re just aching to cum.  You called me in here just for this.”  Gabriel was absolutely pleasure-wrecked as he began pumping Sam’s dick in time with his thrusts.  “Fucking you…never gets old.”

“I-I’m close,” Sam whined out, his head already spinning from the heat, from his racing pulse and from the words that flowed freely from the Trickster’s mouth.  “Wanna feel you fill me…claim me from the inside-”

With a growl, Gabriel’s thrusts became sharper, slamming against Sam’s prostate with a near-violent force spurred on by that exact idea, since he couldn’t leave his mark on Sam's skin.  But filling him full of his cum?  Gabriel wanted it until Sam couldn’t take anymore.  He jerked Sam’s cock until the man shouted out, his knees buckling but Gabriel wasn’t done yet.

He planned on pounding that sweet ass until Sam could barely walk.  Until every step was a reminder of just how good _Gabriel_ had fucked him.  How _he_ had pleased him and how electric _their_ connection was.

Sam was reeling and grappling for the slick wall when he felt the last few sharp slides of the Trickster’s cock and the beautiful sound of Gabriel’s orgasm ripping through his body.  His insides were already so sensitive and sore from all the sex they’d been having, he could feel the cum rush through him and it made him writhe all over again.  He bucked backwards, wanting to help Gabriel ride out his orgasm to the fullest.  Wanting to make Gabriel feel as good as he’d made Sam feel.  
  
It ended with both of them on the tub floor, tangled together, kissing obsessively.

The transition was lost, neither Sam nor Gabriel had any idea how they’d gone from kinky shower sex, to the afterglow, and now more passionate making out.  They couldn’t get enough of each other.

Gabriel was straddling Sam’s lap with their limbs half-woven together, licking into each other’s mouths when the water began to cool down.  It was only then when they realized just what was happening.  When they pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes.  With their foreheads pressed together, another one of those odd, stolen moments happened.

One that both were afraid of, but were too damn stubborn to care about.  The things they wanted they took, they’d worry about the repercussions later - and right now they wanted each other.    
  
Hell, the things they truly wanted were…much heavier.  Those...they couldn’t delve into.

Gabriel looked over his shoulder and glared at the water.  He snapped his fingers and in an instant, it was hot again.  Still, it meant that a ridiculous amount of time had passed when they should be doing other things.    
  
Even though doing each other was, admittedly, much more fun.

Sam nudged the Trickster under the chin and stared into his eyes.  Ever since he’d come to accept his own feelings, he was constantly looking for traces he wasn’t alone.  And it wasn’t as though Gabriel looked vulnerable, he looked at peace, comfortable with Sam.  When he should have been wary, on guard, anything else except treating this as though it was a perfectly natural environment.  
  
But was that enough?  Did that mean anything?

“What?” Gabriel asked, stealing one more kiss.  “What’s going on with your face?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”  Sam wrapped his arms around the man and playfully raked his nails down Gabriel’s’ back, earning a borderline erotic groan.

“You, Sam Winchester, look enamored.”  He looked up through his eyelashes, but before he could finish, he was cut off.

“Hate to break it to you,” Sam dove in and sucked an unforgiving mark against Gabriel’s neck, earning him another sound of approval, “But you do, too.”

The Trickster narrowed his eyes and snipped, “Liar.”  But then, reconsidered with a shrug and changed his answer to, “Enamored with this,” as he drug his fingers over Sam’s chest, down his abs and right before he could go any further south, his hand was snatched up.  With a pout, he said, “You’re no fun.”

“I’ve…got to wash up.”  He ruefully admitted, “Tonight’s the night I’ve got a heart to break.”

For a split second, it looked as though Gabriel recoiled.  As though Sam was talking about _him_ and wasn’t that interesting.  

Sam filed that away for later, and emphasized, “I’m staging a fight, probably after hooking up with her.  She’ll be more susceptible, second guessing herself, wondering what she did wrong because sex is supposed to be her specialty, right?  I’ve got a feeling this will be over maybe even before the week.”

When Sam leaned in to kiss Gabriel, he wasn’t sure if he was going to get the cold shoulder from speaking of Eliza when they were in such an intimate position or what.  But the Trickster surprised him with a searing kiss that left him awestruck.

“Knew you had it in you,” Gabriel winked, and then just like that - with a snap - he disappeared from the shower.

Leaving Sam on the tub floor, alone with his thoughts, and needing to finish cleaning himself up.  Shit.

This wasn’t a matter of feelings, this was a matter of the _possibility_ they were reciprocated.  Shit, the joy that it may even be an option filled Sam with the strangest happiness he could imagine.     
  
Holy hell, he didn’t need to keep Eliza on the hook, he needed to keep _Gabriel_ on the hook.  He wanted him, he couldn’t let this end.  There was more at stake now.  How the fuck did he fall for this Trickster?

And, if he was correct and reading into things, all the body language and stolen glances?  Gabriel’s behavior?  Sam may not be the only one.

He scrambled to his feet, getting his head back in the game because ticking Eliza off the list and getting his brother back was just that - doable items on the list.  It wasn’t a singular goal, he had more.  And the hunter was damn ambitious - he _would_ have it all. 

\------------------------------

Sam all but stumbled into the motel room well after three am, but at this point Gabriel had stopped keeping tabs.  Which was why his appearance (especially like this) was confusing.

After all the talk about “pulling the trigger,” Gabriel decided he didn’t want to know.  He didn’t want to see it because he was too goddamn jealous and so he kept his astral projecting to himself.  Not to mention every time he saw Ruby?  Oh, did his blood boil.  So watching over Sam was now a thing of the past.

Because what they had right now, between them, was their own little, beautiful ignorant world.

All the mattered at the end of the day was that a certain someone was devoid of life.    
  
So Gabriel moped.   
  
Hoping that Sam wasn’t having awesome sex with someone who wasn’t him - even though he’d ordered the kid to.  But now, after everything, the current situation was something Gabriel hadn’t been anticipating.  Not in a million fucking years.

He’d been doing his own work, just finished up his own little case, zapping a few cities away to teach someone a (non)lethal lesson and…here Sam was.

Drunk and tripping over his own feet.  And Gabriel’s first thought was concern.  How…did this happen?

This was supposed to be ‘perfect couple’s fight night’ and Sam was tanked?  He’d have to pull off the dispute sober.  He’d need to lure her into a false sense of security, not be some kind of _potential_ alcoholic, abusive boyfriend.  The pieces didn’t add up.

Still, Gabriel was on his feet and rushing into the hunter’s space to help him to his own bed (they always ended up there these days anyway) before demanding, “Uh, what the fuck happened to you?”

Sam chuckled wryly and announced, “I…went to a bar,” and when he noticed Gabriel bent down to untie his shoes, he offered a hearty, “Hey, thanks!”

“Hey, you’re welcome, drunkie!”  He was looking for answers, and at least the hunter seemed coherent enough to get them, hell, he may get more than he bargained for.  “I need a timeline.  So you went to the bar after Eliza?  How did the step-up go?  What made you get boozed-up in the first place?”

This was when Sam’s chipper demeanor faded and he folded his hands in his lap.  “Yeah.  I went to the bar.  After.  We had dinner, went back to her place afterwards.  We hooked up and when I staged the fight, I’m pretty sure I wrecked her.  But.  I didn’t want to come back here right away.”

Gabriel was helping Sam out of his jacket, and while the “Trickster” would have felt fantastic about the news, _Gabriel_ did not.  Because it sounded like all of it was true, and Sam was too blitzed to lie.  He hung up his coat and eyed him, the hunter’s gaze still downcast.

“Okay.  So everything’s going according to plan.  Now, why didn’t you want to come back here right away if you weren‘t gonna spend the night?  And why the fuck did you exchange a long walk on the beach for,” he leaned in and sniffed Sam, “Oh, whiskey.  Figures.”

“Few reasons,” Sam shrugged, his voice hushed.  “I just want her dead.  We don’t…torture the monsters.  Just kill them.”

Gabriel realized that the old Sam?  He was back.  In his full glory.  His humanity was shining through once again, and it made sense.  The stone-cold killer that Gabriel had brought into this motel room less than a week ago had softened back into that man who Gabriel had found so interesting and special.  It was good…and it was bad.   _If_ he wanted to carry this out.  Since it had driven him to drown his sorrows.

But there was something else.

“I can get that,” Gabriel attempted to sound somewhat supportive, even though he was the one ordering Sam’s actions.  “But you said a few reasons.  What else was at the bottom of that bottle?”

“It’s-” he paused, chewing his lip and shook his head.  “It’s nothing.  I should get some water or else I’ll be even more miserable tomorrow.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, replacing Sam’s nice wardrobe for his pajamas and setting said glass of water on the nightstand, directly to his right.  “No excuses, kiddo.  Now spill.”

Finally, with his jaw set in determination, Sam looked up at him with ferocity.  “I _hated_ it.  It was…I almost gave myself away, okay?  Being with her.  I felt so fucking dirty about it.  I shouldn’t have, it should have been easy.  It was all I could do to even make it happen, it was-”  He stopped abruptly, wiping a hand down his face and grabbing the water, chugging half of it in one go.  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

He was actually distressed.  Like, upset and frustrated to the point he had to drink away the pain, and Gabriel knew he was just one question away from knowing the truth.

Still, he was afraid of asking it.

“Wasn’t supposed to be like what?”  He aimed for cocky, “You knew what you were getting yourself into when you signed up.  You knew what it would take to bring a siren down, how to play one on TV.”

“No shit,” he hissed, his expression taking a turn for something fierce.  “I knew all of that!  And it would have been fine.  Should have been.  But then _you_ happened.”

“Me?”  Gabriel raised an eyebrow and quipped, “And what, exactly, did I do?  If you knew everything about everything, when I gave you your mission.  How did I _‘_ happen?’”

Sam barked out a humorless chuckle, his eyes were glazed over from the alcohol and he just stared.  With this intensity and scrutiny that Gabriel didn’t like.  Not one bit.  Because it looked as though he was staring deep down into his damn soul.  Well, if Gabriel had a soul. 

“Really?”  The hunter asked drably.  “As if you don’t know.”

Yeah, maybe Gabriel’s back went a little stiff, because this was all the confirmation he needed.  But he needed to hear it from Sam’s lips.  He needed more than words that were left unsaid, he needed proof - verbal proof - and there was no better time than now.  

It wasn’t above him to take advantage of the hunter’s drunkenness, after all.

“Tell me, kiddo,” he pitched his voice low, taking a step towards Sam and making the hunter look up at him.  “What did I do?  I didn’t mean to hurt you more, I thought that we were okay.  That the arrangement was working out, and color me surprised about that one.”

With those wide puppy eyes, Sam agreed, “We’re too okay.  That’s the problem.”

“Not following.”  Gabriel lied through his teeth with a smile and reached out cuff Sam’s chin before he could look away again.  “Hey.  We’re good at this open communication thing.  No matter how ugly it gets.  Talk to me.  You’re worrying me, Samsquatch.”

He continued to stare openly, like he was memorizing every detail of his face.  Finally, Gabriel felt confident enough to drop his hold of Sam’s chin, but the hunter snatched up his hand instantly.  

Sam held it tight, interlaced their fingers and without missing a beat, explained, “Never thought it would be a problem.  Until it was.  Then…when it actually happened, I didn’t think I could do it, you know.  Hell, my acting was fine but…it wasn’t working.  Not until I pretended she was you.”

“Did I look good with tits?” Gabriel tried to joke, because the divulgence was headed into dangerous territory.

With a half-grin, Sam shook his head at the idiocy of it all, probably his own idiocy and said, “When it was over, when the fight was over I couldn’t come back here.  It wasn't just a walk of shame, it was like I‘d done something wrong.  Horribly wrong.  So I went to the bar on the way back and drank until the feeling went away.”

The archangel asked hesitantly, “Did it?”

“Nope,” Sam popped the letters out and sighed, “I…I can’t.  And,” he huffed and violently shook his head.  “I don’t know if you’re playing dumb intentionally, or you’re just not getting it right now!”

And, see, that right there was the dilemma.  Whether to admit that, yes, he did understand and he’d avoided seeing or knowing what went on between Sam and their mark because of his own petty jealousy.  Which happened to be rearing its ugly head, now that he knew that Sam had been with someone else and it was _his_ fucking _fault_ for practically shoving his dick into her.  Regardless of who he was imagining.

Although the thought was…nice.  And softened the blow.  Barely.

“What do you want out of this?” Gabriel decided to ask instead.

It was kind-of an admission of comprehension, but the ball was completely in his giant distraught boozed-up hunter’s court.

Sam’s jaw dropped, and he spoke just shy of a whisper, “You do know.  Then tell me how you feel.  And I’ll tell you what I want.”

“Oo, an ultimatum.”  Gabriel brushed a piece of hair behind Sam’s ear and wiggled his eyebrows, “Sorry, I make the rules.  I asked first.  Maybe I’ll tell you, second.”

Now, the kid just looked scared.  Like, straight up terrified of his own words, his own feelings.  But he was going for it anyway.

“It…doesn’t feel right to be with anyone but you.  I learned that the hard way.  This morning, I was trying to prove something to myself-”

“When you came in and attacked me?” Gabriel recalled the impromptu makeout session.

Sam nodded and elaborated, “I wanted to see if it was only about sex.  To me.  Maybe to you.  But…you let me kiss you.  For as long as I wanted.  And…it was amazing.  It just proved to me that, fuck _-_ ” he cursed and punched the mattress with the fist not holding Gabriel’s hand.  

“I’m absolutely insane.  This _shouldn’t_ have happened, I don’t know how or why, but I’m falling for you.  I remember the janitor.  I remember the playful you.  I can put aside all the…Tuesdays.  Because things are different, you’re different...there’s these two sides to you, and all I’ve been seeing is…one that I…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, and Gabriel wasn’t sure he wanted him to because he was frozen in place, the words heavier than he was prepared for.

Sure, he thought there was a ‘I have a crush,’ or ‘let’s keep the awesome sex up afterwards’ talk again, but this...was about something stronger.  He could _feel_ the conviction radiating from the hunter, he could feel and visually see the pulsing beginnings of the ‘L’ word in _Sam’s soul_ through his pesky grace, the true sparks of that emotion you couldn’t fake.  It was real, it was right fucking there, and Gabriel had no idea how the fuck to handle it.

It even lured him in deeper.  It made him feel things stirring that he hadn’t felt in a long damn time.  And it was completely unacceptable.

“How can you see past what I’ve done?” Gabriel blurted out, losing control of his meticulously constructed mask.  “How can you even _begin_ to forgive me?”

He needed to know, because that’s what he couldn’t get over.  After all the torture, after this bullshit he was still pulling, even now-!

“I told you.”  Sam’s voice was hushed.  “Your lesson was a lesson.  And I’m getting my brother back.  I just…I want to keep you now, too.  That's what I want out of this.”  He repeated his own question, “Tell me how you feel?”

The vice grip about his goddamn heart constricted even tighter, because the temptation was too fucking great.  Yeah.  He felt things for Sam.  But he’d _never_ name them, never put words to those feelings.

Still, he’d broken the kid before, he couldn’t do it again.  He owed him that much, and he wouldn’t tell a boldfaced lie.  Sam was here, baring his fucking soul, he may not even remember this in the morning.  Hell, he was even tugging him closer, but wilting as the silence dragged on.

Gabriel snapped himself into pajamas, which made the hunter’s brow scrunch on his forehead, but he answered the question.

“Similar.”

There was a look of hope in his eyes, and it shined bright.  “Can you…give me a little more than that? _…Please_ , Gabriel?”

He used their locked hands to pull the hunter up into their bed (when the hell did he start referring to it as their bed, anyway?!) and pulled back the covers.  Gabriel tugged a confused looking Sam along with him until he was nestled up against his chest and casually looped their legs together.  Still, Sam was still tense, awaiting words more than actions.

Yeah, Gabriel understood that, after all the kid had kinda just spilled his heart out all over the motel room floor.

So he guessed he could try.

“You’ve…made me feel things that I haven’t felt in a long damn time.  We’re talkin’ centuries.  So you can pat yourself on the back for that one.”  A bit of the strain melted away, but not all.  Apparently, Sam was one tough customer.  “This is a complicated situation.  What’s the first thing that’s gonna happen when you get your brother back?  Hm?”

Sam sprung upward and instantly defended, “He won’t kill you if I tell him not to, you’ve gotta believe me.  Or we can-”

“Secret relationship?”  Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “I can’t be looking over my shoulder for a stake until further notice.  You’re a lot of things, Sammy.  Including a pretty crappy liar.  And your bro can read you like a book.”

“Dammit! This is important to me.”  He was getting more and more loose-lipped and passionate by the second, and Gabriel knew it wasn’t because of the booze.  “ _You’re_ important to me.  Like I said, it wasn’t supposed to happen, but it _did_.  I don’t know what I’d do if-”

“Shh,” he hushed him before Sam got too worked up (or said too much that would make Gabriel finally break), placing a finger on his lips.  “Calm down.  Let’s enjoy the time we’ve got together, okay?  See where it goes from there.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Sam confessed but rested down against Gabriel’s chest again.  “Just tell me I’m not alone in this.”

“Fine!  You’re not alone.”  Gabriel said the words he never thought he would, but maybe he had to.  For both Sam and himself.  “Damned Moose.”

With a heavy breath finally released, Sam wrapped his arms around him and the archangel had to admit, it felt so natural.  It felt right.  It felt…like so many different things he couldn’t even describe accurately with words.

Yeah, Gabriel wanted this.  But he knew that he couldn’t have it.  He was living a lie; Sam didn’t even know he was an angel - let alone an archangel.  Sam didn’t know that he was Lucifer’s vessel, that a fate worse than death could very well await him and now Gabriel had this undying, niggling urge to fix _everything,_ even though that wasn’t in the cards.  Goddammit, how did this happen?

“Thank you,” Sam’s voice was so quiet, it barely registered.  “Good night, Gabe.”

“Mm, nighty night, Sammy.”  He pressed a kiss to the hunter’s forehead like it was just another evening, like this was what happened every night.

Yeah, he wished.  Tomorrow, everything would change.  But that didn’t mean tonight he couldn’t soak in his warmth.  Just exist here.  Pretend.  That’s exactly what he planned on doing.


	8. Have a (Foolproof) Contingency Plan

Almost instantly when Sam had fallen asleep after his drunken confession, Gabriel zapped the alcohol from his system, made sure he didn’t stir and slept soundly.  Because the archangel was left with a cubic fuckton of information after their conversation.  While it should have been good, the concept of being loved and that love (morethanlikely) being returned; none of it was.

Not anymore.

The clock indicated today was day seven - the last chance, the final countdown.  And after that?  Everything should be tied up with a neat bow.  Except things weren’t looking as though that were possible.  Everything was a tangled mess, and the more he thought about it…the more Gabriel was getting pissed off with _himself_.  Not Sam.

It begin with irritation, then grew to frustration and then he ended up with downright fury that he’d allowed himself to sink this low.  To _feel_.  To drop his guard and let Sam fucking Winchester in.

But…how could he have seen this coming?  The kid was supposed to hate him!  He couldn’t have predicted this turn of events, not in a million years.  Original best case scenario - they tolerated each other’s presence.  Then, friggin’ Sam the Machine did the job, killed the bitch, got his brother returned and backed off Gabriel’s case.

Nope.   _Not_ what transpired.

If it was anyone else, Gabriel wouldn’t be in this position.  Normally, if they were playing their roles, he’d be Sam and the kid would be his Eliza. _But_ he’d always taken an interest in him, always-

No.  Gabriel had already been down this road.  He’d tried to justify something that just couldn’t be justified because in the end the answer was the same.

He’d fucked up.  Plain and simple.

Around eight, Sam began to stir, pulling Gabriel closer - even their wrapped-up limbs - and hummed happily.  Little things that made Gabriel smile.  Things that in another life, he could get used to.  So maybe he squeezed him back, letting him know he was still there.  That he hadn’t left him the whole damn time he’d been asleep.

Instead of doing his own cases, working through his clippings and Trickster work, the night had been entirely spent with Sam.  Not only did he want to savor the warmth, he couldn’t do a damn bit of work nor get into his normal, creative, vengeful mind-frame when all he could think about was _this_ damn human.  So he stayed right smackdab here, where Sam fell asleep on his chest.  What was a couple hours to a millenniums old being, anyway?

…maybe he even wished it was longer.

As Sam woke up, he never froze.  He never freaked out about what was said the night before, and Gabriel knew damn well that he made sure all those memories stuck in that thick skull of his.  He wasn’t letting Sam get away with the ‘I’m drunk’ excuse, he was going to own up to his confessions and talk about them sober if they were so important.

Which was part of the reason Gabriel anticipated a freak out.

Yet, none came.

Instead, Sam lifted his head, pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s lips with a, “G’morning,” and unceremoniously collapsed back to his chest.

“Morning, Samshine,” he chuckled.  “Is this where you say ‘five more minutes?’”

“Yep,” he confirmed and burrowed his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck, stubble and breath tickling in the best way.  “You’re so damn comfortable.  Why?”

“’Fraid I don’t know how to answer that,” Gabriel responded with a shake of his head.  “How come you’re so damn adorable in the morning?  Like a friggin’ cat instead of your usual puppy act.  I’m waiting for you to start purring.”   
  
Catching him off guard, Sam flicked his tongue across Gabriel’s earlobe, taunting him and laughing lightly.  It sent a chill down the archangel’s spine, and he grumbled out, “Not fair, Moose.  Not fair at all.”

“Heh, sorry.  Couldn’t help myself,” Sam’s hand roamed down Gabriel’s chest until he reached the seam of his shirt and then pushed up underneath it, Sam’s hand was now caressing nothing but skin.  “You’re too tempting…”

“ _You’re_ a sex fiend,” he quipped right back, but didn’t mind the way Sam’s blunt nails lightly raked down his ribs.  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

That was the first time that the hunter paused or hesitated.  Because Gabriel asked a question and maybe that sparked his brain back to their conversation.

“Just thinking about making every moment count,” Sam said honestly.  “I like this.  Waking up next to you-”

“On top of me,” Gabriel corrected.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam stated, “You know what I meant!”  He continued, “This is nice.  Just feels right.  I don’t want to lose this.  Even if it’s just you popping in from time to time.  In between things that I _don’t_ wanna know about,” he emphasized the last part.  “This is something I never knew I’d want so badly.”

“Hmm.”  Gabriel began running a hand through Sam’s hair, it came so naturally, as he acknowledged, “So our conversation last night.  You obviously remember it all.  And it wasn’t just drunken bullshit.  You meant it?”

Although his voice dropped in volume, it didn’t in conviction: “Every last word.”

“You got me blushin’, kid.  Didn’t know I was that special,” he tried to keep it simple.   
  
Yet the kiss he placed on Sam’s forehead was anything but - it was intimate.  Not something that happened between casual partners.  But…fuck! 

He needed to quit this, now!

“Well, you’ve always been some kind of special,” Sam snorted ruefully.  “The _types_ just changed.  For the better.  Finally.”

Gabriel nodded, noticing that Sam’s hand was beginning to move slowly, but surely, south.  And, shit, his cock was already twitching with interest.  He wanted to get their clothes off, ASAP, and he could, with the snap of his fingers, but at the same time…maybe he wanted it to be a little different this round.

Maybe the physicality was something he craved.  Just the pace that Sam had begun to set, it intrigued Gabriel because it was slow and tender and…foreign.  This wasn’t the kind of sex the Trickster was used to.  He even admitted these feelings hadn’t been awoken in centuries.  So maybe, just for fun, he’d follow Sam’s lead on this.

What’s the worst that could happen, right?

“Finally, huh?” Gabriel wondered aloud as his own hands began to wander across the planes of Sam’s back, keeping with the languid pace.  “Were you trying to crack me?  Change me?  Because I think _you_ finally just opened your eyes.”

He seemed to hum thoughtfully, his thumb catching in Gabriel’s boxers, “Maybe.  Or maybe you go soft when you’re around me.”

“I can make you a one-hundred percent guarantee that I’m _not soft_.  But you’re welcome to find out for yourself,” he encouraged, because Sam was still merely teasing the waistband, not taking it any further.  Yet.

Which made Gabriel extend his own reach a little, just so he could smack Sam’s ass and lay back down.  That earned him a surprised yelp, but rather than a dirty look, Sam glanced up to him with a sudden spark of lust dancing in his eyes and shook his head, sexual frustration evident.

“You know, I’ve never been shy.  I’ve never hidden my sexuality but _you_ make me want things that I’ve never wanted before.  Never had time for before,” Sam admitted in a husky voice, his hand finally diving beneath the fabric and wrapping around Gabriel’s cock.  “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you.  I can't get enough.”

With a sigh of sheer relief and pleasure, Gabriel embraced the feel of Sam’s large hand slowly fisting him.  He recalled his words and wondered aloud, “Like rim jobs?”  And then, with a bit of excitement, he realized, “Does that mean you want a _spanking_ , Sammy?  Does that turn you on?”

“Maybe.”  All signs pointed to yes, though he didn’t say it aloud.  “But next time.  This time, I want to take _you_ apart,” he announced, pulling away the boxers completely.

But now Gabriel’s mind was swirling over the idea of spanking Sam’s rear until it was red and his handprint was visibly etched into Sam’s ass.  Hell, his cock pulsed with interest and oozed precum from the thought alone.  With that amazing distraction dancing in Gabriel’s head, Sam had managed to peel his shirt away too.

And this?  This, right here, was new.  Gabriel being the naked one.  All the while the hunter peppered kisses down his chest, nipping and sucking every so often, while _Sam_ was still completely covered.  He didn’t mind it, being at Sam’s mercy, he’d already thought of it as a new experience, and the hot hands all over his body felt quite nice.  As did the tongue flicking over the head of his cock, lapping away the leaking wetness.

Sam didn’t stop there, he continued to swirl his tongue around the tip and suck.  Playing with the idea Gabriel had planted in his head earlier, he kitten-licked the entire length, earning breathy moans from the Trickster and orders for more.

It was right around the time Sam had taken Gabriel’s entire dick down his throat that he could feel the intensity of the man’s gaze watching him.  When he looked up and met those amber eyes, the sexual tension just exploded through the room.  It was downright electrifying, and laced with something more.

Normally, this was where Gabriel would be fucking someone’s face, but he held back for Sam.  He kept his hands to himself and let the man do as he wanted and, fuck, did it feel fan-fucking-tastic.  Gabriel was sure to let him know, too, but another thing he was acutely aware of was the fact that he didn’t want their last time to be a sloppy blow job.

He needed to have Sam one last time, needed to claim him and feel that tight body wrapped around his cock…

“Fuuuck, that mouth on you,” Gabriel moaned and slid out from under him until they were crouched face to face.  He kissed Sam hard, tasting a bit of himself on the hunter’s tongue before he pulled his shirt off and asked, “Let me take you?”

Sam’s nod was almost too eager, but the arousal vibrating through his body could have had something to do with that.  He continued to kiss Gabriel, every part of his body he could get his mouth on, while the Trickster undressed him.  It was intimate, just as Gabriel had initially expected it would be.  Each new expanse of skin being revealed piece by piece was like a new revelation, and since it was Sam, it was downright glorious.

Gabriel laid the man down, stretched out on the bed, and took a few seconds to simply admire him.  There was second they both paused, captivated, Sam’s eyes so tender and open, so filled with words he couldn’t say aloud.  But, damn, did his eyes say it all.  Gabriel had no idea what his face looked like, he didn’t want to, because if it reflected even _half_ of what Sam’s did, he was in deep shit.

Who was he kidding?  He was already in deep shit.

“Do you trust me?” Gabriel asked, leaning forward and sucking a hickey into the long expanse of Sam’s neck.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he _needed_ to see his mark - a sign of proof - that even for a little bit this man _was his_.     
  
At the end, he’d heal him so the bitch wouldn’t see.     
  
But right now, even the smallest brand lit a unspeakably fierce new fire in Gabriel’s stomach and he couldn’t get enough.  Like this was how Sam was supposed to look.  As if he was made, created, to show off signs that Gabriel had been here, that he was claimed…

“Yes-” Sam’s response was strangely quick and choked in pleasure as he demanded, “More.”

Gabriel grinned something wicked as he nipped the man’s collarbone, but then paused because… “You really trust me?”

He couldn’t help but ask the question almost inches away from Sam’s face, needing to see it in his eyes to make sure it wasn’t a lie.  That it wasn’t bravado or he was acting, as he’d been playing at all week.  But, nope, there was honesty there.

“Yeah, I do.  I trust you with me, I trust you with…” he looked vulnerable but enamored and captivated by whatever Gabriel was about to ask or do.  “Why?”

“Oh, you’ll see, kitten,” he teased, and then added, “If you don’t want it, tell me.”

With his brows furrowed in confusion, all Sam could do was stare.  Gabriel rubbed his hands together as he straddled Sam’s waist.  Slowly, he took his palm, pressed it against Sam’s shoulder and followed the line of his bicep, to his elbow, to his wrist and pushed his hand into the mattress above his head.  He repeated the same movement with the other arm, Sam’s eyes going wide.

Because Gabriel’s power had frozen everything he’d touched in place, binding Sam with invisible restraints, unable to move.

But his eyes weren’t wide in fear, his pupils were blown wide open, darkened with lust and he was licking his lips.

“Holy hell, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Gabriel trailed a finger from Sam’s chin downward, painfully unhurried, until he was between his legs and teasing at his opening.  He spread his thighs wide open and settled between them, asking, “Let me fuck you like this?”

“So you can watch me like this?”  Sam asked experimentally twisting his torso a little to show his bare-minimal ability to move, then raising an eyebrow.  But then a huge grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and goaded him on, “You know I’m ready, c’mon, Gabe, need you.”

And Gabriel agreed with both statements.

Hell, the last few days had surprised him with the amount of sex they’d had and each time the word ‘need’ came into play more than the last time.  It should have scared him, but as he slid into Sam’s body all he could think about was the flawless man underneath him.  All he could do was watch the rapture that overtook Sam’s face as he bottomed out and gasped in pleasure.

The way Sam’s eyes snapped back open and met Gabriel’s, not in a look of challenge, for him to ‘get on with it’ but in a molten statement of, “You feel so goddamn perfect.  Feels so right…” as he raised his hips and ground against Gabriel’s cock - the visual making his pulse quicken.

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel couldn’t think of anything else to say as he began rocking his hips, because Sam’s gaze was cutting him so deep and nearly rendering him speechless.  It was encouraging and wanton, and now the Trickster wanted to make Sam fall apart.

He wanted to use the view he had, the fact that Sam’s grabby hands would stay right where they were, as he began rolling his hips faster, and found his sweet spot.  Because all the hunter could do was throw his head back and gasp.  The arch in his back let Gabriel pound into him deeper, his heels here digging into Gabriel, trying to pull him in even more.  But then again…there _was_ something else that would help just as easily…

Manhandling Sam’s legs over his shoulders, Gabriel folded the man in half and kept up the steady rhythm, unrelentingly slamming into his prostate.  He knew Sam’s body inside and out by now, he knew exactly how to please him, how to make him scream, and he could just watch the show.    
  
Sam was struggling fruitlessly and squeezing his thighs but it was for nothing.  And, damn, Gabriel was ecstatic the kid had let him do this.  Allow him to be put completely at his mercy, give him his unwavering trust, because it was mouth-watering…

“Gabriel!” Sam all but shouted, thrashing and bucking the best he could against Gabriel’s thrusts.

“Yes, Sam?” he encouraged, slamming his hips in then grinding right up against that bundle of nerves, just to see how loud Sam could cry out his name.

There was a lovely burst of profanities, but that wasn’t what the hunter had in mind.  He ordered - no, he _pleaded_ with wide eyes coupled with determination, “Kiss me, _dammit_!”

How could anyone refuse that?

Gabriel closed the distance, brushing Sam’s hair from his brow with one hand and cupping his cheek with another - licking inside his mouth.  Sam kissed him back with this intensity, with this force of nature kind of strength that left Gabriel gaping.  Even though Sam couldn’t touch him, even though he could grapple for his body, his lips moved in a way that spelled out desperate, unadulterated passion.

And that other _,_ unvoiced pesky word-

Okay, fine _!_   Gabriel would call it what it was, because kissing Sam _changed everything_.  

It changed the way that he thrusted into him.  It made him drop the confines he had on Sam’s arms, so the kid could hold him.  It changed the entire thing: now they moved _together_ , arms wrapped around and caressing each other, as their bodies rocked as one.  Their lips never left, there was no clashing of teeth and this fight to get off.

No, this was…this was making love.

This was _the_ word made physical, made _action_ , the true meaning forged between them - and the pleasure wasn’t from the friction of their bodies.  It was from coming together and being one.  Gabriel…had never understood or grasped it.  Until now.  He didn’t shy away, he went with it and treasured every inch of Sam as he moved closer and closer to release.

He whispered into his ear, “Want you to cum for me, Sam.”

“So close,” he whimpered, “Just like this-”

“Fuck, you’re…” he couldn’t finish the thought, because Sam’s lips collided with his again, needing to be close.

Gabriel picked up the pace, knowing this was the final stretch.  He needed Sam to get off like he wanted.  That was another thing that made it different, he wasn’t selfish - only caring about his own release and then finishing his partner off however worked quickest.  No, anything Sam wanted was his, he would give him anything and everything and make it mind-blowing.

Sam pulled away from his lips to shout, “Yes!” and clutch at Gabriel’s back, holding him tight, as he painted their stomachs in cum.  Gabriel looped an arm low on Sam’s waist to balance him there.  Fuck, the clenching around his cock and this angle-

Just a few more thrusts and he was overwhelmed by his own orgasm.  Gabriel continued rocking into Sam's body, moaning out his name in-between kisses.  He took his time soaking in the warmth that was rushing through his body and that was Sam.

It was everything he wanted, if he had the option he’d _never_ let go - they’d have to pry his dead, lifeless hands away from this moment - because this?  May be _his_ own little Heaven.  If angels had a Heaven in the afterlife.

After sucking one more mark, after pulling one more delicious whimper from Sam’s throat, Gabriel leaned away to marvel at the array he’d left behind.  They made him smile, each one of those damn reminders of Gabriel, against Sam’s tanned skin.  Even though _this_ was how it should have been, even though the kid looked like he was practically made for them, Gabriel knew he had a fuckin’ duty.   
  
Begrudgingly, he sighed and closed his eyes as he snapped them healed once more.  Even though his mark was gone, he’d have the memory of seeing it there, even for a short span of fleeting moments.  And that had made him damn happy.

When they collapsed back down to the bed, it was exactly that.  Collapsing from sheer exhaustion and muscles aching from the most amazing sex that transformed into undeniable love-making.  Sam was wearing a wide smile that wouldn't be fading anytime soon, and he still couldn’t get enough of Gabriel.

The feeling was mutual, so Gabriel had no problem whatsoever being tackled and caressed, hands still wandering and exploring after the intimate encounter.  In fact, he found himself catching Sam’s smile, too.

“What?” he asked, Sam pressing a single kiss to his cheek which he countered with an audible smacker of his own.

“I just…think this is amazing.  I don’t want to give it up.”  He said those words again as he rolled overtop Gabriel, a beautiful vision still flushed and covered in sweat with intensity in his eyes.  But this time, he boldly added, “And I don’t think you want to give it up.”

“Oh yeah?”  His smile turned into a smirk because of Sam’s sheer cockiness.  “What makes you say that?”

“Because of the way you look at me.  The way you just fucked me.  The way you get possessive and don’t want any ‘monster’ touching me except you.  Except…” he tilted his head to the side, examining Gabriel with such a longing gaze, “You’re not really a monster.  And there’s a damn good chance I’d let you.”

“Let me, what, exactly?”  Maybe a thrill ran through his spine all over again, and he reached up to trail his fingers along Sam’s sides.  “This is getting good.  Even though you‘re being a shit, calling me out like that.”

“Maybe I’d let you be the only one who touches me.”  Sam’s voice didn’t hold his previous confidence, but it was because he didn’t know how Gabriel would take the statement.  So he followed it up with a tender kiss to the Trickster’s throat and capped it off with, “If you wanted.”

“Damn, that’s tempting as hell,” Gabriel minded his words, but the truth was that he was _obsessed_ with the idea.

Sam belonging to him.  Only letting Gabriel touch him, only bending over for him, only cumming for him…only _loving_ him.

…He didn’t know how that last little thought snuck up in there, but it did.  Because it was real.  Fuck, was it _real_.

“Yeah?”  Sam smirked from where he continued to loom over him, “How do I make it more tempting?  How do I sweeten the deal?”

“I’d say it’s plenty sweet.”  Gabriel leaned upward to capture his lips in a bold kiss before dropping back down to the bed.  “That, Sam Winchester, is the problem.”

The hunter’s jaw fell open and his brow scrunched before he slowly repeated, “The problem?”  He tumbled back down to the bed and rolled onto his side, taking Gabriel with him so they were facing one another.  “What’s the problem?”

“Can’t have you knocking me off my game, and it’ll be damn near impossible ducking and dodging around your brother.  You know that, right?”  He allowed his tone to sink into something soft, something gentle as he reminded Sam about the cold, hard bitch that was reality.  “You’re right.  I _love_ that idea.  Can’t lie, can’t say I don’t.  We've gotten lucky, except we've been spending the week in a bubble.  But you gotta remember the real world, kiddo.”

“We _can_ make it work,” he said in sheer determination.  “I _want this_.  I want _you_ , I-I think I _love-_ ”

Quicker than quick, Gabriel lashed out and placed a finger over Sam’s lips to silence him.

“Don’t say it.   _Please_.”  Dammit, he was begging, because if the word was said aloud he may just crumble.  He may not be able to stay away, to make it a clean break like he needed it to be, because…fuck.  The pitter-patter of his stupid heart was booming louder in his chest and Sam was adding the bass kick.

He grabbed Gabriel’s wrist, pulled it away with a glower and snipped, “Fine.  I won’t say it.  But I _mean it_.  And I remember last night.  What you said.  How you just touched me.  There’s something here, Gabriel.  I’m ready to fight for it and make it happen.  Can you just tell me you won’t give up?  That’s all I’m asking.”

He examined the human closely, because again - he was so fearless, putting his heart out there and living in the moment.     
  
Gabriel wished he had that courage.  Wished he could reciprocate verbally, but everything that was still to come in the future: it was bleak.  This was a little momentary slice of paradise, something that he never deserved to have, to experience, in the first place.

Maybe he could soak up the last minutes, because he was a selfish asshole.

“Yeah, there _is_ something here, Sammy.  Maybe it is worth fighting for,” he mused with a half-smirk and ducked in to kiss him hard.

It looked like the hunter wasn’t falling for that, because after a few seconds he pulled away and clucked his tongue, calling the Trickster out with, “Nice distraction.  But…before I go out tonight.  I need to know that I’m coming back to you.  That I’ll have chances in the _future_ to come back to you.”  

Sam cupped Gabriel’s cheek and pointed out, “You’re strong.  Your magic is stronger than I even anticipated, hell, with the teleporting and the time-bending.  You can’t tell me that pressing pause and giving us some time alone wouldn’t be child’s play for you.”  He was very obviously trying not to shake him when he emphasized, “We  _can_ work.  I know we can.”

“I am pretty damn awesome, aren’t I?”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

With a snort, Sam confirmed, “You are.  Have I gotten through to you yet?”

“Maaaybe,” Gabriel drew out the word.  “It’s a very good argument.  And a lovely idea.  So why don’t we get back to making out and then you get your head in the game for tonight?” He made sure he had Sam’s full attention when he announced, “This is still a mission, Sam.  You still need to follow through to get your brother back.  Don’t let me be a distraction, or else you’re going to hate me.  All over again.”

Their eyes lingered and the hunter let the words sink in because he already had his plan, Gabriel wasn’t going to throw him off his game.  So instead he demanded, “How about we get back to making out?”

“Fine by me!” Gabriel adamantly concurred and rolled on top of Sam, kissing him like his life depended on it.

And, oh, was it a fantastic way to spend the late morning and the calm before the storm.

\-----------------------

“Should I be wishing you luck?” Gabriel asked casually as he watched Sam get dressed and look himself over in the mirror.  “You look absolutely dashing, if you were wondering.”

With a slight eye roll, Sam announced, “I don’t need luck.  I know what I’m doing and soon this will be all over.”

Oh, but Gabriel couldn’t help but internally sigh over just how right the kid was, even though he didn’t know it.

The hunter adjusted his shirt one more time before he pulled on his leather jacket and turned back around towards Gabriel.  He crawled halfway on the bed and stole a quick kiss that was coupled with a mischievous grin.

“Wait for me to get back?” he asked and went as far to cradle the side of Gabriel’s face.  “We can celebrate.”

“Oh yeah?  Celebration sex, cheers to your brother?  Kinky!”

With a scoff, Sam was armed with a bitchface when he said, “You know what I mean.  It’s just our last night together.  Just the two of us.  I wanna make it count, you know?”

He looked so damn hopeful and adorable that Gabriel couldn’t help but close the gap once more and kiss the hell out of him.  Maybe it was too much, but he didn’t care.  He wanted to remember the way Sam tasted, memorize the softness of his lips and the passion behind his touch…Gabriel wanted to remember every little, tiny nuance to the best of his abilities.

Sam pulled away, breathless and panting, with a wide grin.  “What was that for?”

“Told you how damn sexy you looked, didn’t I?” Gabriel tried to brush it off and tilted his head up.  “Now, onward!  Make it happen.  Go vanquish the evil siren.”

With a nod, Sam looked happy.  While he was looking at Gabriel.  He looked content, like he’d found something amazing and when he hesitated in the doorway, Gabriel was worried about the words that would come out of his mouth.

“See you soon,” Sam finally decided on, and then he was gone.

Gabriel’s chest constricted.  It fucking hurt.  But he knew what he had to do next.

With a deep, centering breath he closed his eyes.  Because it was time.

\-------------------------

Sam was all nerves when he knocked on Eliza’s door, knowing this was the grand finale, the final send off and all that crap.  He didn’t need to bring anything to kill her, given the stash of weaponry he’d already found underneath her bed that had her fingerprints all over them.  And then there was also the heroin kit taped under the sink in the bathroom as a back-up, depending on his mood.

Regardless, all the tools used to fake a suicide were there.

Hell, Sam could just kill her.  After all, once the police linked her to all the other kills and her “victims” came clean in prison, the number of people out there gunning for her head would be endless.  Sam would be long gone by then…

Except, crap, he forgot about the deal.

 _Suicide_.  Yeah, it _had_ to look like a suicide for Gabriel’s benefit.

The overdose was appearing to be the golden ticket after all.

Sam frowned, because he’d knocked a few times and she still wasn’t answering the door.  He tried once more before he reached into his pocket and called her.  Maybe she was back in the apartment and couldn’t hear him?  But-

He could hear her phone ringing, even through the door.  Which was odd.    
  
Just because, Sam tried the handle.  Both surprise and suspicion bloomed in his chest when he found the door already unlocked.  This would normally be the part where he pulled out his gun to duck and dodge around the corners, but he couldn’t do that. 

With no gun and no idea what was going on, he was left calling out, “Eliza?  Where are you?” because she had to be here if her phone was.    
  
Or maybe she had left it open for him?  But...with her previous story of being “attacked,” it didn’t add up.

Sam walked through the apartment, room by room, voice taking on a questioning tone as he scented smoke with, “Eliza?  Are you…” and he came to a dead stop right outside her bedroom.

He was lucky he wasn’t just prancing through the apartment and was taking in details with a keen eye, or else he would have trampled right through a spreading puddle of blood on the hardwood floor and left an incriminating boot-print.  It had pooled from the bedroom and looked recent, it _had_ to be, because he’d talked to her on the phone - what?  No less than ten minutes ago?

Whipping around the blood, he barged into the room with an, “Eliza?!” only to stop dead in his tracks at the scene in front of him.

Everything that she’d hidden was back in plain sight, her altar was set back up.    
  
There was spell work meticulously laid out, sigils scribbled on the top of the surface with a burning candle lit, a bowl full of blood and-

A slit wrist.

Eliza was doubled over on the altar, lifeless, and in her hand a rest blade that was used to make the blood sacrifice in a black magic spell.

Sam’s breath caught in his chest as he spotted the grimoire and darted to see what the hell she was up to, because this didn’t make sense! She wasn’t that shitty of a witch that she’d die casting a spell!   
  
She’d see it through if she turned to blood magic, it was clearly something she cared enough about to bring back the old tome.  If Eliza had ditched the siren act and picked up witchcraft she would have known a cut palm was more than sufficient, and a slit wrist only led to one thing. 

This wasn’t suicide, this was-

His eyes glossed over the page, translating the Latin as he went, and realized that this was…the _Pagan_ version of a love spell?  Was this meant for him?  He looked at the ingredients and the grimoire and realized they _didn’t match up_.     
  
This page had been randomly opened, the crystals and the spell components were chosen at haphazardly, the only thing that linked up - were the sigils?  Which was the only thing that mattered if someone was looking over the scene.  No detective would have taken the time to translate the words on the page.  They would have glossed over the meaning, the incantation, matched up the pictures and called it a day.  But this was something different, entirely.

No, what had happened here?    
  
This spell barely called for a drop of blood, it would have been a goddamn _pinprick_ , not a sacrificial knife!  Unless she really was that awful at translations, but there was nothing here to wrap the wound, nothing to staunch the bleeding after she added that ingredient, and- 

That’s because she didn’t do this, Sam realized all at once.

And the spell?

That _wasn’t_ what Eliza was working, no.     
  
This page was opened for a different purpose, it was displayed just for Sam.  The love spell, the reason it had nothing to do with this ritual was because it wasn’t part of the damn thing!

The love spell, a _Pagan love spell_ , was a _confession_.  And a _favor_.

When it all hit Sam, it punched the wind from his lungs and he almost tripped over his feet, circling around himself and looking everywhere in the room.    
  
Because if this was what he thought it was (and he fucking knew it was!) this was the Trickster‘s way of planting the evidence only Sam would recognize.  He was telling Sam he _felt the same_ about him without saying the words, and-

“Gabriel!   _Wait_ , no, _no_ , no-”

He heard a snap, and his vision went black.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!”


	9. Mission Complete(ly Backfired)

The song “Back in Time” blasted in Sam’s ears as he jerked up out of bed, in an old yet familiar motel room and-

His brother eyed him with amusement from the other bed while he tied up his boots.  “Hey, you don’t look so good.  Something else happen?”

Sam couldn’t think, he just acted and launched himself at Dean hard enough to knock him over.  But he didn’t, he just clung to him for dear life, and the hug was returned with a chuckle.    
  
But Sam…couldn’t answer his question, he couldn’t tell him everything that happened, so all he could manage was an almost tearful, “I just had a really weird dream.”

“Oh yeah?  Clowns or midgets?” Dean quipped with his devil-may-care smile.  “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

With a hard swallow, Sam nodded and took in a deep breath, “Yeah, I’ll go get the car ready.”

Dean began, “I can do-”

“No!”  Sam cut him off, remembering just what happened last time, “You…stay here.  Just let me do this.”

“ _Jesus_ , just how many Tuesdays did you have?”  While his voice held that teasing quality, it still stabbed Sam deep because…oh, if Dean only knew _half_ of what he’d been through.  
  
It wasn’t even about the endless cycle of Tuesdays anymore.

The moment Sam was out of the motel with his duffle bag and heading to the Impala, he was looking, searching around every corner.  He was hyper aware of his surroundings, waiting for something or _someone_ to snap themselves into existence.  He was trying to track down the damn Trickster, trying to ask him why-

That’s when Sam’s memory got a little fuzzy.  Some of it was dream-like, now that he thought about it, but he could still remember the majority of what happened.  Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he _felt_ rather than _remembered_.

The lingering feelings, the fact that he _needed_ to find the man was overwhelming, but he couldn’t figure out exactly _why_.  Sam knew they had a…thing.  Something that shouldn’t have happened, but it did and the last thing he wanted was for him to disappear from his life forever.  Even though that was goddamn ridiculous and-

Sam stuffed the bag into the car and opened his mouth to shout out the Trickster’s name, to draw him out of the shadows because he had to be watching, right?  He’d just given him his brother back, he couldn’t be far-

But…his jaw just kind of…hung open.  Because he was coming up dry when it came to a name.

His brain, _it hurt_ , it felt like it had been fucked with and his hands, on reflex, flew up to grab his throbbing head.  It was almost like his memories were ricocheting around, being warped and altered, but that wasn’t fair!    
  
  
  
He wanted to keep all these memories and before anything else could happen he screamed out into the parking lot, “Stop!” at the top of his lungs.

Just like that, the pulsing, throbbing sensation dimmed, and he knew now more than ever that the Trickster had to be there.

So Sam called out, even if he looked like a crazy asshole, “Thank you, for bringing Dean back but…!  Talk to me, we _need to…_ ” he took another deep breath, “We need to figure things out.  We were supposed to tonight, but now it’s another day and-” he shook his head, “You don’t get to leave me like this!”

He _swore_ he could feel his presence, but he wasn’t showing.  He wasn’t fucking showing-

Saying screw it, Sam continued on, “Don’t make me chase you and hunt you down again.  Because I will!  You’ll be doing both of us a favor if you come out.”  He added a pathetic, “Please?  I need this.  I _need…_ ” he couldn’t bring himself to finish with ‘you.’

“Sammy?  Uh, you okay?”

He deflated the moment he heard Dean’s voice and then approaching footsteps.    
  
Now, he was out of time.    
  
Sam could no longer lure the Trickster out of hiding, the chance at a conversation somewhere was impossible, and it wouldn’t be until he was alone again that he could even look back into the summoning that he’d attempted in the first place.

Now though…would that be unfair?  Would forcing him here be too much?

Sam wanted him to see him because he wanted to be there.  Hell, the man had made good on his promise to bring Dean back from the dead, how could he _keep_ asking, _demanding_ things of him?  He could only hope that the Trickster would come on his own time.  Maybe it was too soon, Sam was expecting too much.  After all, they’d just spent a full week together with no breaks.  Sam would be tired of himself, too.

He pasted on a smile and turned back to his brother saying, “Yeah, I’m good.  Wanna head out?”

Warily, Dean agreed with, “Uh-huh.  This talking to yourself gonna be a _thing_?”

“No, it won’t,” Sam forced out a laugh, still in the mindset of the actor he’d been playing for the past week.

A week that technically never existed.

Holy hell, now that he thought about it, the past half-year hadn’t existed, had it?  He’d traveled back in time, he’d never had those conversations with Ruby, who knew if _Eliza_ was even real or-

Maybe Sam would have to look her up.  After all, he would hunt her all over again if she was playing siren.  Or maybe he could warn her and stop the killing before it began…

“Let’s hit it!” Dean announced with a wide grin, “Get you back to normal, ‘cause you’re weirding me out.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.  Normal…” Sam couldn’t help but feel that even the word felt foreign on his tongue.

Still, as they hopped into the Impala one thing remained the same that Sam couldn’t get over and he couldn’t fight no matter how hard he tried.    
  
Lilith was still out there.  Holding Dean’s contract.    
  
He was going to lose Dean one way or another, and the countdown was ticking away.  Had he even learned his lesson?  The one the Trickster had tried so hard to teach?

Sam didn’t care.  He _couldn’t_ \- he was still going to fight tooth and nail to find a way to save Dean.  Maybe even the Trickster could help, with all that power Sam didn’t even know he had until the week he’d spent with him…

Maybe he was looking for anyway, any _reason_ , he could to justify to search for him again.  Because, shit, even though he didn’t remember all of the details, he was pretty sure these lingering feelings meant something big.  Something he refused to name, because if he did and they never crossed paths again?  Sam was pretty sure that the rejection would be another thing to break him.  Or rather, his fucking _heart_.

Which was why he was determined to find the Trickster.  If not right away, it would be eventually.  And he was damn well going to hold him accountable.

\------------------

Gabriel wasn’t sure if it made him a creep or a huge dick to linger in the shadows, watching Sam rather than appearing to him.

But…he’d already come to terms with the fact that they were over before they began.  That they could never be anything, they could never have anything, no matter how much both of them wanted it.  And that was the best punch line - they did.  They were something, they had something, they both wanted it and now...it was over.

Although Gabriel _should_ have scrubbed Sam’s brain, a selfish part of him wanted their memory to stay there.  Especially when Sam ordered him to stop, it wasn’t out of pain from the process, it was anger that those memories were being taken away.  So…Gabriel stopped.

Even though he promised Sam he’d let him remember his name, it was unavoidable.  Just like his first instinct has told him, a name held too much power, and if the kid continued to chase him he’d soon realize there were no Tricksters that answered to Gabriel.  Then, once the inevitable angel bomb was dropped, the pieces may add up.

No, Sam was too goddamn smart for his own good, which was why he couldn’t trust him.  Gabriel already decided for the future to plant “Loki” in a dream, just so the kid’s frustration wouldn’t eat him alive.  

As much as he wanted to leave him with “Gabriel,” the whole prayer factor?   _That_ would have been too much.  Gabriel wouldn’t be able to stay away when Sam thought about him, not knowing that it was a prayer to an angel.  And not just any angel, and archangel.  Oh, if Sam even knew what he’d gotten himself into.

At the end of the day, Gabriel knew they’d see each other again.  Call it an educated guess.  He just hoped Sam didn’t get into too much trouble until then.  He crossed his fingers that he’d learned his freakin’ lesson.

Because the kid had turned the tables.  While Gabriel had tried to show Sam a slice of what he did, about karma and just desserts with Eliza - he unknowingly knocked Trickster on his ass with something _more_.

In the end, _Sam_ managed to teach _Gabriel_ the lesson to end all lessons: _never_ fall for a human.


End file.
